Only Canada
by iamtheredangel
Summary: "I have been watching you, little Matvey. I have been waiting. And now you're all mine." Ruscan, Russia x Canada, abuse, a bit of violence, yaoi, smexiness, angst, romance, etc. Russia takes and breaks Canada.
1. Chapter 1

Yep, I'm starting a new story. I know, I know. I'm in the middle of Don't Be Jealous and I really should finish that one first.. but.. eh. I was inspired after reading Stockholm Syndrome by weeaboo-sensei. (I suggest you go find it and read it.) I -adore- the concept of evil Russia forcing himself onto poor little Canada. This has been swimming in my brain for a few days now.

Anyone who's read my other fics knows I like a very uke Canada. Sorry if that's not your thing, but.. I'm the one writing. ^^;;

Also, please don't be bothered when I write 'tho' instead of 'though'. It's an old habit that wont die, sorry. I like good spelling and grammar otherwise, so excuse that one little bit of laziness.

This story has nothing to do with Alone With Him or Don't Be Jealous! It's not a sequel or a prequel or anything. It's just another excuse for me to write Ruscan abuse smut. Yummy, yummy Ruscan. :p~~

On to the show!

* * *

_Oh no oh no oh no oh no!_

_I'm late I'm late I'm late I'm late!_

Canada tipped the taxi driver without really knowing if it was customary to do so here. He tipped allot. Because he'd learned two words from a translation dictionary on the flight over. Two very important words. _Go fast. _And the taxi driver had obeyed his request. He was still late, but thanks to the driver he wasn't delayed even further.

He was always late. But he would never admit that the lateness was often his own fault. No. It was traffic congestion due to bad, snowy weather. It was a delayed Air Canada flight. It was a mixup with his luggage upon his arrival at various host airports. It was any number of reasons.. but never _his_ fault. Matthew Williams - Canada - wasn't one for leaving everything - like flight preparations, packing, translation dictionary buying - till the last minute. Not him. No.

The taxi had parked in front of a large, beautifully sculpted, red-bricked building, with eight flags hanging from it's facade. Japan, Germany, America, China, Italy, Russia, France, England.. and Canada at the end. Each flapped freely in a chilly northern breeze that Matthew barely noticed as he hauled his suitcase from the trunk of the car. He waved goodbye to the taxi driver and hurried to the door. There hadn't even been time to stop at his hotel first to drop his things off.

He was late. But it wasn't his fault. He wanted to be here. Really.

Canada liked the G8 meetings. Honest. It was nice to see everyone. It was nice to hear everyone talking and discussing and deciding world affairs. It was great when France and England started arguing. When America started laughing. When Japan haunched over with yet another stomachache. When China reminded everyone that they all owed him money. Germany would yell. Italy would say something about pasta. Russia would sit back quietly and look pleased with the chaos that everything always devolved into.. every.. single.. time.

Canada would say nothing. Most of the time. Sometimes he tried to say something, but someone else would speak over him. Or he was laughed at. Usually by America.

He liked the G8 meetings.

Matthew tried to smile at the guards as he rushed past them. The architecture inside the building was just as rich and bold as the outside. The decor was lavish. The walls made of marble and historical paintings awash in glorious colours hung every few feet down the red-carpeted hallway that the Canadian hurried down, pulling his suitcase along behind.

Yes. It was better to be here. Here at the annual G8 meeting where he, Canada, could make a real difference in the world. A million miles away from the comforts of home. Hockey, parliament, maple syrup, vast forests, wildlife, Ottawa, Toronto, Vancouver, donuts, Tim Horton's, his beloved polar bear, snow..

Well, ok. At least snow was here too.

Matthew pulled a little slip of paper from his jacket pocket to read the instructions he'd scribbled there. _Meeting room at end of grand hall. _Well.. this hallway looked pretty grand. Matthew hurried towards the double doors at the end.

This was the first time he'd attended a G8 meeting here. This was the fist time this nation had held a G8 meeting since it joined in 1998. England had loudly voiced his opposition to the decision to hold a summit here, but fair was fair. All members should host at least once. And all members had to attend. It was mandatory. You had to be there for the yelling, the name calling, the largely wasting of time that could be spent doing something else.. like peacefully spending time out in nature..

Oh hell. Who was he kidding? Matthew hated these meetings. He was always late because he didn't want to be there.

He stopped at the double doors, his hand resting on one of the handles. He leaned his forehead against the cool wood and closed his eyes. It was awfully quiet. No yelling, no arguing. But the little blond assumed the room beyond was just sound proofed. No doubt the meeting was already well underway. Seven seats were filled, and someone would most likely be giving a speech. Not Italy.. he'd be asleep by now. Maybe Germany, or Japan. America might be munching on a hamburger. France might be blowing kisses at England to piss him off.

In a minute Canada would walk in and quietly take his seat. If the host nation had remembered to give him a seat. The Canadian flag was hanging outside tho, so yes, he most likely had a seat. He would walk in, and sit, and no one would notice. No big deal.

Matthew inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled. _Here we go._

He opened the door and stepped into the room.

His suitcase thunked against the door as it closed behind him. Oops. He hoped no one had heard, but seriously doubted anyone did. ...Mostly because the room was empty.

_Eh?_

The room was empty. As in.. devoid of other nations.

There was a large, round table in the centre of the room. There were eight chairs, and eight computer screens with keyboards. There was a lovely sunflower floral centrepiece in the middle of the table. There was a large screen on the wall and a projector hanging over the table where slides or videos could be played. There was a small snack table off to the side stacked with clean, empty dishes. Everything that was normally present for G8 meetings was there in the room. But the G8 themselves, save for Canada, were not.

Matthew blinked in confusion. And then the doors locked behind him.

"Hey!"

He dropped the handle of his suitcase and ran to the doors. He rattled the handles but they were locked tight.

"What's going on? Let me out!" He banged on the door. There was no response. He banged again, but then thought he heard a faint laugh somewhere behind him.

Matthew whirled around to see someone impossibly tall stepping out from behind a curtain. He felt his stomach drop into his shoes. Little pin prick sensations crawled up and down the skin of his back and arms. Sort of the same feeling he got when he was watching one of America's frightening horror movies... but worse.

"Hello, Matvey."

It was Russia.

Canada felt the hairs on the back of his neck start to raise, standing on end.

Russia was dressed casually, as he would be if there was a meeting he was attending. Comfortable green pants, a yellow knitted sweater and a light grey blazer to make the ensemble somewhat formal. It brought the violet of his eyes out, and the ash silver of his hair.

Matthew swallowed. His mouth was dry. Like.. bone dry.

"I thought there was a meeting?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached behind him to jiggle the door handle again. Still locked.

"There was." Russia smiled.

_Was he really THAT late? _

Matthew frowned. No. He'd double checked the invitation email he'd received a month prior and knew he'd written down the time of meeting correctly. He was careful to translate it to Moscow's timezone. He was late, but only by twenty minutes. G8 meetings lasted hours. Even all day.

"Where is everyone?"

_Why is the door locked behind me? Why are you looking at me like you're a predator and I'm your prey?_

Russia was moving towards him, slow and careful. Canada had given up on the door and was edging away, easing himself along the wall. Predator and prey indeed. If the huge man made any sudden movements he would bolt like a deer. But to where? This room had no other exits.

He wondered if he'd have time to smash a window with a chair.

"Meeting was yesterday."

_Yesterday?_

"But the email I got said it was today!" Matthew retreated further along the wall. Russia followed. He was starting to get the feeling that he was being corralled. Herded. He was nearing the snack tray. A quick glance showed him a single glass of what he assumed was water. Damn, his mouth was dry. He was thirsty. But it could be vodka for all he knew.

"I lied." Russia smiled.

The colour drained from Canada's already pale face. There was no mistaking it now. He was in danger. Allot of danger.

Russia was fast. Matthew didn't have time to even think of how such a large man could move so quickly. A clenched fist connected with his stomach, exploding the air from his lungs. He doubled over and sunk to his knees. He wrapped his arms around his middle and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. He heard Russia chuckling softly. He peeked an eye open to see the mans boots. Russia was looming over him, then he crouched and set his hand atop the little blonds head.

"Why?" Canada choked out, pulling away from the Russian's hand. Fingers buried themselves in his hair and kept him in place.

"Because, little Matvey," Russia chuckled, "You are like this. Soft and quiet."

Matthew frowned. _Soft and quiet? I'll show you soft and quiet! _He braced himself to lunge at the Russian. He was smaller, and not nearly as strong as his brother America, but he could fight. He'd checked Russia out of his way on the rink more than once when they played hockey together. He'd check him now, as hard as he could, then try throwing a chair at the window.

Russia backhanded him across the face.

Stars danced in the corners of his now-blurry vision. His glasses had been sent flying halfway across the room. Matthew's head swam, and his idea of escaping the hand still buried in his hair was abandoned. Russia stood up and dragged the little blond with him. Matthew winced in pain, struggling to get both his feet beneath his body. He clawed at Russia's grip, and a trail of red dribbled down his chin. At least his mouth wasn't dry anymore. Instead it tasted coppery and thick with his own blood.

"Please, Russia.. don't do this.."

Russia chuckled again. He yanked Matthew's head back, admiring his handiwork. Matthew did his best to stay on his feet. He glared into purple eyes so much like his own, but he knew as well as Russia did that the bravery was feigned. Canada was terrified.

Russia dragged him two steps towards the snack tray, close enough to grab the glass of water.. or vodka. Whatever it was. His head was wrenched back even further, causing his bloody mouth to fall open. The liquid was poured down his throat. Matthew choked, coughed and sputtered. Russia was relentless and Canada did his best to swallow quickly so he'd be able to breathe again. Thankfully it WAS just water. When the glass was drained, Matthew was released. He tripped backwards towards the meeting table, coughing. He managed to keep himself on his feet, holding himself up against one of the chairs. Russia stalked at him again.

"You are such a pretty little thing." The Russian cooed, and Matthew threw an angry glare at him. Both of him.

...Both?

_What.. what was in that water?_

Canada saw the objects in the room around him begin to multiply. He was starting to feel dizzy. Then Russia was there, before him, above him, pushing him back, easing him down on the table.

"So pretty." That disturbing smile was all around him. That gentle, sweet voice echoed as if it came from far, far away. A hand was in his hair again, this time petting him softly.

"I have been watching you, little Matvey. I have been waiting. And now you're all mine."

Matthew's eyes slid closed. The heavily drugged water he'd swallowed down mere minutes ago quickly made work of his senses. The world was black and filled only with the Russian's echoed, accented words and his soft chuckle.


	2. Chapter 2

Hurray for chapter two! This is fun to write, but if you're reading and enjoying, please post a comment to let me know! It encourages me to keep going. ^.^

* * *

His mind was alive with strange visions and dreams. Dark figures standing over him, and whispered voices he couldn't quite make out. Nonesensical. Frightening.

He felt as tho he were adrift on the Huron, tossed about by waves, at the mercy of the wind, helpess to bring himself ashore.

It had felt like nothing at first. The same physical nothing you feel in your deepest dreams where your mind is aware, but your body is not. The fear and the tension is present in your dream-turned-nightmare, but you feel as tho you're encased in sand. You want to run and scream, but your legs wont move and your mouth is silent.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Matthew felt himself coming up. Like he had been deep underwater and he could see the waking sunlight at the surface, he swam upwards. His consciousness roused when his head burst through the dream water, and he gasped for air. His eyes fluttered open.

He was laying face down on a bed.

The bed was bare. There were no pillows, no blankets, no sheets. Only an old threadbare mattress. Matthew gazed at it's fraying material and didn't try to move his body just yet. He wasn't sure if his limbs would obey any command his brain sent them. Instead, his eyes rolled to take in as much detail of his location as he could.

He was in a small room. There was a tiny window. The walls were a dirty colour that might once have been white. Or ivory. It was hard to tell. The floor looked old and worn and had no carpet. There was no furniture, save for the bed he was laying on. There was a single lightbulb overhead, it's cord, bare and ugly, hanging from the ceiling. There were two doors. One must be a closet, Matthew guessed, the other was the way out.

The Canadian's sense of smell began to stir and he breathed in. It smelled old in here. Musty with age. There wasn't any dust at least, and that was something.

He tested his fingers. They flexed. Good. Now his toes. They wiggled. Also good.

Whatever drugs the Russian have given him were wearing off. He felt sluggish, but that would pass. A quick assessment of himself told him that nothing was permanently injured. His face hurt a bit from the blow he'd taken before, but he could feel the cut on the inside of his cheek was already healing. He wondered how badly he was bruised, but there was no mirror to check.

He put effort into rolling to his side to be more comfortable. A metalic clinking sound came with the movement and he felt something pulling with him.

He slowly pushed himself up to sit, and felt something cold brushing against his chest. He looked down.. and wondered what sort of hell he'd woken up into.

_Oh God.._

There was a metal collar around his neck. A linked chain hung from it and pooled on the mattress below him. It was attached to the wroght iron headboard of the bed he sat on. And.. he was naked.

Matthew covered his face in his hands. His blond curls fell over his fingers and his shoulders shook as he surpressed an involuntary laugh. The utter ridiculousness of the situation nearly overcame him. He'd been tricked into coming to Moscow a day late for the G8 summit, he'd been attacked and drugged, and now he'd woken up here in a tiny room, completely naked, chained to a bed. It wasn't funny at all, but laughing was better than crying. Giggling lessened the shock of surrealness and eased back the rising sense of panic that threatened to overtake him.

He was alive, he was mostly unharmed, and he was chained to a bed. It could have been worse, he supposed. He could have woken up in a cold dungeon, bloodied and broken and chained to a wall.

He assumed he was in Russia's house and the man himself would be walking through the door soon to.. do whatever he meant to do. Matthew had to pull himself together and think. He shook the last of the drug from his mind and brushed back his hair from his face.

_What does he want from me? Canadian military secrets? Hahaha. What military secrets?_

Matthew supressed another giggle. He stretched his legs and touched his bare feet to the floorboards. It was chilly. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried not to start shivering. He was bloody freaking Canada! Being naked in a chilly room should not make him shiver!

_Does he want to invade? He'd have to get through Alaska first. Alfred wont let that happen._

America. There was a comforting thought. As much as he was often downright pissed off with his neighbour and brother he knew Canada's land and borders were always safe. America wouldn't let anything happen to him. Maybe because he cared, but mostly because Alfred wouldn't let any one or anything dangerous come too close to his own borders. It was a sore spot with America that Matthew and his past bosses never bothered beefing up Canada's military and defenses. Canada didn't see the need. No one hated Canada. No one would attack the quiet, peaceful, helpful nation. No one remembered Canada enough to want to attack it. Besides.. Canada was a cold place that no one needed. For more than half the year it was ice and snow and hardship and that was most likely one of the reasons Canada was so big. No one else wanted the tundra. The same could be said for Russia.

That brought the thought into Matthew's mind that none of this made sense. It was a well known fact that Russia was completely Off His Rocker Crazy, but even he couldn't be stupid enough to think he could annex Canada without bringing down America's wrath. And why would he want to? Didn't he have enough snowy lands of his own? He wanted to own the whole arctic instead of part of it?

Matthew shook his head.

This was silly. He pushed himself up onto shaky legs. Five steps to the door, but there wasn't enough chain to reach the doorknob, even if he stretched his arm as far as he could.

Had he more time to think, he'd have guessed this room was once servants quarters. It didn't matter tho. America would be there to save him soon. Or England. Or France. Maybe even Cuba. Someone would come for him. Right?

The little Canadian tested out the length of chain. He stretched around the room to see how far he could go. He could stand in the middle of the room, just barely, with the chain pulling taut against his neck. He couldn't reach the closet or the window. He could only leave the bed by a few feet.

The collar around his neck wasn't tight enough to choke him, but there was no way he could push it over his face and ears to get it off. The clasp in front was padlocked. Maybe if he had a hammer he could bust open the little lock, but he couldn't imagine swinging a tool hard enough to do so close to his own face. No.. the only way out would be a key. And he knew who had the key...

Tugging on the chain at the other end attached to the bed did no good either. The wrought iron was old and well made and strong. He doubted if even Germany were physically strong enough to break it.

Matthew sighed and sat back down on the bed. He lay back and stared at the ceiling. At least the bed was big enough to be comfortable..

Footsteps in the hall. A key pushed in and turned the lock.

Canada sat back up and scrambled to the back of the bed.

Russia stepped into the room. He smiled when he saw the little blond was awake.

Matthew, aware of his nudity, felt his face flush with heat. He did his best to shift to a position where nothing was showing. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around his legs. He wanted to glare and demand for Russia to release him, but humiliation kept him quiet. He pressed his forehead to his knees and let his hair fall over his face.

"Don't hide."

Matthew felt the bed sink as Russia sat down. He chanced a peek through his blond locks and saw the larger man was smiling at him. There was an expression in his eyes.. as if Russia had found himself a cute, but frightened little kitten he wanted to coax into being friendly.

A large hand brushed some of Matthew's hair back from his face, and Canada quickly slapped it away. He squirmed back on the bed as best he could to get beyond the Russian's reach. Russia only chuckled. His reach was long enough to touch Matthew no matter how far back he went.

"It's alright, Matvey. I wont hurt you."

Canada clenched his fists and grit his teeth. _What a liar!_

"You punched me before!" He glared at the Russian.

Russia nodded.

"Da, I did. I'm sorry. I could not think how else to bring you here."

"You need to give me back my clothes and let me go." Matthew wanted to add _before my big brother comes to kick your ass_, but he didn't think mentioning America would help his case.

Russia shook his head. A cheerful, friendly smile lit his features. Even without his glasses Matthew couldn't help but notice how handsome the large man was. He'd never seen Russia up close before. He, like almost every other nation, tended to keep his distance.

"Matvey is staying here. I am keeping you."

Matthew blinked slowly, wondering if he was still drugged and this was all some sort of crazy dream.

"Keeping.. me?"

"Da." Russia smiled, "I have wanted Canada for my own for long time. Now I have him."

Matthew remembered the words that had echoed over and over in his mind after he'd been drugged and was passing out on the table.

_"I've been waiting to have you, little Matvey. And now you're all mine."_

Russia reached to pet Matthew's hair again, but the little blond swatted his hand away once more.

"They'll come looking for me!" He threatened, pulling his knees more tightly against his chest.

"Who will look for you?" Russia tilted his head, and a mocking expression came over his face. "Who remembers Matvey? No one did at the meeting."

To this, Matthew had nothing to say. He felt his heart sinking. A familiar pain took hold in his chest. The same ache that dug into him every time he attended a meeting and was ignored. Every time he attended a party and was forgotten. Every time he tried to do business with another nation and he had to explain, over and over, who he was.

No one remembered him. No one cared. Anyone who did see him thought he was America and yelled at him or beat him up. America himself sometimes remembered him long enough to make fun of him.. or demand something of him.. like free trade and lumber.

_No one noticed I wasn't there at the meeting.._

He shouldn't have been surprised by that. And it shouldn't hurt. Hadn't he spent decades telling himself that it didn't hurt? It didn't matter. He had himself, and he had his little polar bear. He had his huge expanse of land to wander in, and he had his people. His people loved him. They celebrated him every July first. But..

But..

_I've been so lonely._

Humans and polar bears were wonderful but..

_I'm so.. alone.._

Matthew bit his lip. He focused on an especially frayed spot on the mattress. Russia was right. No one would notice he was missing. No one would notice he wasn't there. No one would come looking for him.

Russia suddenly grabbed the chain at his neck and pulled him forward. Matthew yelped, so surprised he didn't have time to prevent himself from sprawling haphazzardly into the larger mans lap. Russia's arms wrapped tightly around him.

"I will take good care of my little Matvey. I will never forget him."

Matthew's face went as red as his maple leaves in Fall. He struggled furiously to get out of Russia's grasp. The Russian chuckled and let him go, and the little blond scrambled back on the bed, angry and embarassed and trembling. He glared daggers at Russia.

The Russian smiled, cheerful as he stood and walked to the door.

"I will let you rest for now, ok? I will come back later with your dinner."

_I wont eat anything! It's probably all drugged anyway.. _Matthew wanted to growl and bare his teeth at Russia just like his polar bear would. But all he could do was glower and glare and glow red with shame.

The Russian turned to go, then stopped as tho he'd remembered something.

"Oh!" He smiled again at Canada. "My name is Ivan. Or Vanya. Whichever you decide to call me."

Matthew could think of a thousand things to call Russia, and none of them were as nice as his name.

_Ivan.. Vanya.. I like Vanya better._

Matthew huffed and turned his face away. Ivan chuckled and left the naked little blond to himself in the room, shutting the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

And so Matthew had time. Alot of time.

He wasn't sure what the hour had been when he'd woken up, but he guessed it'd been sometime in the morning. It was hard to tell. The little window had some sunlight streaming through it, and as the hours passed the sunspot on the floor moved slowly.

He rested, as Russia had instructed him to do, but only because there just wasn't much else TO do when one is chained to a bed in an empty room. He traced the patterns on his mattress with his fingers at least a dozen times. He counted the links on his chain. He lay gazing at the ceiling and let his eyes unfocus so little pictures, faces and things would appear in the stucco. That wasn't hard to do at all without his glasses.. sigh. He hoped Russia planned to give them back..

He tried to dream up ways he could escape. He could try wrapping the chain around Russia's neck and choking him Jabba the Hutt style.. but the thought brought up images of himself dressed in a Princess Leia outfit and he started giggling all over again.

At least he was still laughing. It kept him from crying.

Choking Russia wouldn't work tho. The man was too big, and too strong for him. Matthew was likely to get himself killed if he ever tried something like that.

His only hope was if Russia planned on unchaining him from the bed at some point. Ivan couldn't leave him in this room forever, right?

Right..?

Matthew curled up on his side and shivered with the thought.. and the chill that was still in the room. He was cold. He wished he had a blanket at least.

Even through the chill, at some point he dozed off, curled tightly into himself and with his cheek resting on his arm. He dreamed lightly of maple syrup and pancakes. Eating a whole stack of them, his lips covered in sticky sweetness..

He woke when his stomach growled. A moment later the lock clicked and the door opened. Russia walked in with a tray of food.

Canada quickly sat up and shuffled back as far as he could on the bed, the chain dragging with him. He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself, same as before, to hide his nudity as best he could.

Russia smiled brightly and set the tray down on the bed, then carefully sat next to it so nothing would spill. The smell of warm food pricked Matthew's nose and he couldn't help but examine what it was the Russian had brought him to eat.

It wasn't any sort of food he'd ever seen or tried before. It was foreign to him, but it smelled good. There was a plate of what looked like some kind of cabbage rolls, and a couple skewers of seasoned meat. There was a bowl of red coloured stew that Matthew at least knew was borscht. To drink there was a glass of milk.

"Are you ready to eat, my little Matvey?" Russia smiled.

Matthew's gaze went from the Russian's happy expression to the food tray, and back again. He wrinkled his nose and turned his face away.

Ivan sighed, tho he didn't sound overly disappointed. He picked up the fork and knife and cut into one of the cabbage rolls. He put a piece in his mouth and chewed with a satisfied 'mmm'.

Canada closed his eyes. He wanted to plug his ears so he wouldn't have to listen to the Russian eating, but that would mean possibly exposing something. So he rested his chin on his knees and tried to imagine he was somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Russia ate the meal. In between bites, he talked.

"I call France today. I ask him if he notice anything strange about meeting. He said no."

Ivan picked up a skewer and pulled a piece of meat off with his teeth. Matthew peeked at him through his bangs.

"Then I call England. I ask him same thing. He hung up on me."

Matthew's shoulders started to droop. He knew England hadn't noticed anything strange about the meeting either. He was the last person who would notice one missing Canada..

"Then.." Russia took the spoon and gulped down some of the borscht, "I call America."

Matthew's eyes shot up and he stiffened. Alfred wouldn't have noticed Canada missing from the meeting either, but maybe he'd tried to contact him since then! Maybe he knew something was wrong and he was worried!

Russia wiped his mouth with a napkin and smiled.

"He laugh at me for hockey game in Sochi. Then I laugh at HIM for being sore loser to Finland and getting ass kicked by Canada. He hung up on me too."

Matthew's heart fell.

_Oh.. yeah. Alfred hasn't spoken to me since then._

The last thing on America's mind was Canada. After what had happened at the Olympics.. Alfred was a very sore loser.. and would probably give Matthew the cold shoulder for a long time. So there was no hope of an American rescue.

No one remembered him. No one cared..

The little blond felt his eyes start to sting. But before the tears welled enough to spill down his cheeks, Russia spoke again. His voice was soft, and gentle.

"Did Matvey decide what to call me?"

Russia tugged very lightly on the chain about Canada's neck. Matthew stared at him.

"Ivan, or Vanya. Which do you prefer?"

_I'd prefer to call you a deranged psychotic maniac!_

Russia picked up one of the remaining meat skewers and held it out to the little blond. He tugged on the chain a little harder, but the Matthew wouldn't move.

"Tell me, and eat. It tastes very good."

Matthew felt his mouth begin to water as the smell of the food wafted beneath his nose. He wanted so badly just to give in and accept the food.. but..

Instead he glared.

"Russia. Just Russia."

Canada squirmed away and turned, putting his back to Ivan and the food. He heard the Russian sigh with disappointment. He heard the tray being packed up, then felt the mattress lift when the larger man's weight left it.

Ivan crossed the room and left, the door closing and locking behind him.

It was then that Matthew's stomach gave a mighty and scolding roar. _How could you? _It seemed to say.

Canada lay down on the mattress and gazed at the spot where Ivan had been sitting moments earlier. His lip trembled and his tears began to fall. He sniffled and shivered. When he whispered there was no one there to hear him.

"...Vanya.."

* * *

Short chapter! But a fun one. Poor Mattie!

Hope you all like it so far. ^.^


	4. Chapter 4

Matthew slept fitfully throughout the night. Hunger pains kept waking him from various nightmares. He couldn't get comfortable on the bare mattress. He was used to sleeping buried under thick, fuzzy blankets surrounded by lots of pillows. Add one little polar bear to the mix and you've got a big pile of warm, snuggly comfort. Plus Canada always wore flannel pyjamas to bed. Being naked for any length of time was not something he was accustomed to.

He rolled from his stomach to his back to both of his sides, then back to his stomach again. The chain tangled around his neck and in his hair and he cursed in French at the horrible thing. Eventually he gave up on sleeping altogether and took to pacing beside the bed instead. The movement warmed him up at least.

The night seemed to go on forever.

Eventually the Canadian wore himself out pacing. He curled back up on the bed and finally fell into a deep sleep. The first light of day chased away the dark shadows in the room and Matthew slept on through the very early hours of the morning.

Russia unlocked the door and walked into the room to find a sleeping blond curled up in the far corner of the mattress. He tiptoed quietly to the bed and set the tray he was carrying down. The little Canadian didn't wake. Russia carefully sat down on the bed.

Matthew didn't stir until he felt a hand in his hair. Gentle fingers threaded through his golden tresses, taming stray strands and untangling knots. He make a soft sigh of pleasure as those fingers massaged into his scalp. The skin along the back of his neck turned to gooseflesh. He shifted into the comforting touch, wanting more.

A light chuckle brought him to full waking and Matthew opened his eyes. There was Ivan, gazing down at him with that same gentle, almost innocent smile.

With a small yelp he scrambled into motion and put as much distance between himself and the Russian as he could. The chain rattled as it dragged with him, and the glass of milk which sat on the breakfast tray sloshed around from the bouncing motion of the mattress.

Ivan 'tsked' and used a napkin to wipe up the spill. Matthew resumed his usual covered-up sitting position and eyed the Russian and the food on the tray. This time Ivan had brought him something that looked like crepes. But they were folded up almost like envelopes, and were stuffed with berries. There was a bowl filled with an amber liquid, with a small wooden stick resting in it. Matthew gazed at it, wondering what it was.

Ivan noticed his interest and lifted the small stick from the bowl, revealing the end which was shaped like a mini bee hive. The liquid was thick and it oozed it's way down from the wooden hive and melted back into the bowl. It was honey.

"Matvey likes sweet things, da?" Ivan smiled, "This is blini. It is similar to your pancakes. We do not eat so much maple syrup.. only what we import from you. But we very much enjoy honey."

Matthew licked his lips. He could smell the sweetness in the air. The blini filled with strawberries and blueberries looked heavenly. His stomach rumbled painfully. He could almost taste them..

"We have many varieties of honey in my land," Russia went on softly. He twirled the little wooden hive so that the liquid stopped dripping and only glistened in the morning sunlight now streaming in through the window. "This is wildflower honey. It is rare and especially sweet."

The little Canadian met Russia's gaze. Ivan's eyes were light violet and beautiful, Matthew thought, like the first lilacs of Spring. They were soft and coaxing, like his voice.

"Try some?"

Ivan held out the wooden hive for Matthew to take.

The Canadian felt a part of his resolve to resist crumbling down inside him. In spite of himself.. and for the sake of something sweet.. he reached and took the wooden hive from the Russian's hand. He brought it to his lips and poked his tongue out to taste.

It was unlike any honey he'd ever tasted before. It was thick and strong and pure. Not like the over-processed and refined stuff he had back home. It was.. delicious.

He put the hive in his mouth and sucked all the sweetness from it. His stomach growled ferociously, demanding that he have more. Matthew's face flushed and he pressed a hand against his middle, trying to quiet the noise. Russia chuckled.

Ivan picked up a fork and knife and started cutting up the blini. He took the wooden hive back from Matthew and dipped it back in the honey, then drizzled the amber liquid generously over the plate. Setting the wooden hive aside, he took the fork and lifted a bite to his mouth.

Matthew nearly cried out in despair. Did Russia intend to eat the food in front of him as he'd done with dinner the night before?

Ivan chuckled at the horrified expression on the little blonds face. He took another bit of the blini onto the fork and held it up for Matthew. Canada went to take the fork, but Ivan pulled it out of reach again.

"Matvey must tell me first." He said.

Matthew frowned, frustrated.

"Tell you what?"

The Russian only smiled, and waited patiently for the blond to understand.

_Oh. That._

The little Canadian kept his mouth shut and turned his face away again. No. He wasn't going to play Russia's little game. No way.

Ivan put the bite into his mouth and chewed. He made a sound of content. Matthew's stomach growled again, loudly.

He sighed and closed his eyes, lowering his head.

"Vanya. I'll.. I'll call you Vanya."

Ivan made a sound of delight and scooped another bite onto the fork. He held it out to Canada, who took it and devoured it as tho he'd been starved for two months instead of two days. He made short work of the blini. It was just as good as the pancakes back home, and even better than the crepes he loved to eat in Quebec. He ate every last piece of the blini, then stabbed at the berries that had escaped, popping them into his mouth as well.

When he was finished he set the fork down on the tray and picked up the glass of milk. He drained the glass in only a few large gulps, then set it down and leaned back against the mattress with his eyes closed. The feeling of food.. good food.. filling the emptiness inside him sated him and caused him to temporarily forget where he was.. and who was seated on the bed with him.. watching him with interest.

After allowing Matthew to relax for a few minutes, Ivan gathered up the breakfast try and set it down on the floor beside the bed. He then settled on his side on the mattress, his head propped comfortably on his hand, his elbow bent.

Matthew peeked an eye open and realized the Russian was close to him. Too close. He began to inch away, closer to the wall. Ivan grabbed for the chain and pulled. Canada resisted, but that only resulted in choking from the collar around his neck. The Russian dragged the little blond closer, and Matthew began to cough. He struggled, his fingers grasping at the mattress.

"Easy, little one." Ivan purred, grabbing hold of Matthew's arm once it was within reach. He pulled the blond fully into his embrace, releasing the chain. Matthew ceased his struggling only long enough to fill his lungs with much needed air. Russia used his chance to tighten his arms. He threw a leg over both of Matthew's and leaned down over him, trapping him against the mattress.

"Let me go, Russia!" Canada cried, fruitlessly pulling at his arms to free them and kicking his legs. Ivan was too strong for him, and the larger man made soothing noises and spoke soft words.. as if he were providing comfort to a frightened animal.

"Shh. It's ok, Matvey. It's alright. Vanya is here. Shhh."

Eventually Matthew wore himself out. He lay quiet beneath the Russian, panting and trembling. Sweat had broken out on his brow from his efforts. His matted hair clung to his face.

Ivan waited until the little blond's breathing had calmed. He slowly lifted his leg, freeing both of Matthews. When Canada didn't resume his struggles, Russia eased his grip around the blonds arms.

Matthew stayed where he was. He was tired, but not too exhausted to struggle against the Russian again.. but he knew it was useless. The man was too strong. Ivan could do as he pleased, and the thought started another wave of trembling up and down Canada's spine. When the Russian's large hand began to rub his back and shoulder Matthew clenched his eyes shut tight. He bit his lip when he felt Ivan's nose bury itself in his hair. Lips were at his ear.

"Don't be frightened." Ivan whispered. "Just relax."

The hand continued its work, rubbing and massaging at the tense muscles in Matthew's shoulder. Matthew was pushed forward and he didn't resist as he lay on his stomach. This gave Russia access to rub both of his shoulders, all of his back and his neck.

Oh, how good it felt. Ivan's hands were skilled and gentle and the little blond felt all his tension and soreness being driven away beneath deft fingers. When those fingers buried themselves in his hair again he hitched and the breath caught in his throat. Russia smoothed the golden hair back from his face. He ran his fingers through the wavy curls and pet Matthew until he was nearly lulled into sleep.

Ivan bent and placed a kiss in the centre of the Canadians' back, right between his shoulder blades. Then he left the bed and gathered the breakfast tray from the floor.

Matthew rolled to his side and wrapped his arms around himself. He shivered. He hated himself for it, but he missed Ivan's body heat. Tho Russia hadn't touched him in any sexual way, or forced him into anything too physical, he still felt as tho he'd been deeply violated. But.. that violation... had felt good. He was relaxed and comfortable.. but chilly from being naked.

He watched as the Russian made his way to the door. He closed his eyes and swallowed back some pride.

"Vanya?"

His voice was only decibels above silent but Ivan had good hearing. The Russian stopped at the door and turned to gaze at his pretty little Canadian.

"Da?"

"May.. I have a blanket? Please?"

Ivan smiled.

"Of course, my little Matvey."

He left the room, then returned with two things - a soft, fuzzy blue blanket and a pillow.

Matthew took the pillow and hugged it as if it were his little polar bear. He buried his face into its softness and felt a terrible pang of homesickness welling in his chest. Russia wrapped the blanket around him, careful to push the chain out of the way.

Once Canada was comfortable, Ivan bent to place a kiss on his forehead. Matthew forced himself not to flinch.

"I have business this morning," he said softly, petting Matthew's hair again, "But I will be back this afternoon. We will give you bath, da? Then if you are good there will be clothes to wear and you may eat with me downstairs."

Ivan grinned, then rose to leave the room. The door shut behind him and Matthew was left to himself with a headful of crazy, confusing thoughts.

A bath. _We will give you a bath. _ Did that mean Russia was going to take him to a bathroom and allow him to shower? Or was he being literal? Like.. fill the tub with water, force Matthew to get in, and wash him himself. Soap and hands everywhere..

Canada closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. He wanted to laugh like before, but all the mirth seemed to have escaped him.

This was nothing surreal and amusing about this situation anymore. Now it was just.. strange. Matthew felt himself becoming confused. The thought of clothing and the possibility of going downstairs - leaving this room - were things that he wanted. But Ivan had said _if you are good_.

Being good meant not struggling. Not trying to escape. Not fighting.

It meant doing as he was told. And calling Russia by his name.

It was useless to struggle and fight, wasn't it? Ivan was too strong. And there was always the fear that the larger man may hurt him. He had a reputation for being unpredictable and violent. Matthew had heard stories about the Baltic nations. How Russia had used them as servants and forced at least Lithuania into sex. He had a taste for smaller, pretty nations..

Matthew blinked and looked around the room. He wondered if this had been the very bedroom the Baltic nations had shared while they were under Russia's rule. The bed was large enough for three people..

He pulled the blanket around his chin and closed his eyes. It didn't matter. The Baltic nations weren't there now. Only he was. And wasn't it even sort of.. nice? In a twisted.. bizarre sort of way. He was the entire focus of Russia's attention. No one had ever paid so much attention to him before..

Those were dangerous thoughts.

Canada took a breath and forced himself to think about something else. Like hockey. He played a game in his mind, and soon he began to drift into sleep. The players around him on the rink in his dreams all had violet eyes and silver hair. One of them grabbed him and tore off his helmet. It was Ivan.. and he pulled Matthew into a sweet, lingering kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

Russia returned a few hours later, as promised. With him he brought a leather leash and a little key.

Matthew's eyes widened when he saw the leash.

_Oh you have got to be kidding me.._

But Ivan was serious.

The larger man sat on the bed next to Matthew with a strange sort of calm in his eyes. He grabbed the little Canadian by the chain about his neck and dragged him so close their noses were almost touching. Light purple eyes stared into his own and it was all Matthew could do to keep from pushing himself away. He felt fear digging into his chest.

"If you try to run or hide," Ivan's voice was soft, but deadly serious, "I will catch you and beat you until you are broken and blind. Do you understand me?"

Matthew swallowed at the huge lump of terror that had formed in his throat. He nodded, his eyes as wide as England's tea saucers.

"Good."

Ivan's expression changed as quickly as the switch of a light. His smile was bright and happy, and he used the key to unlock the chain around the little blonds neck. He attached the leash in it's place, securing it with the padlock.

He stood and tugged Matthew up after him.

Canada never felt more ridiculous as he was led naked from the tiny bedroom into the hallway. His face was flushed dark red as he walked with his hands covering _that_ part of himself, and he hoped like mad that no one else was around. He was sure Russia would have servants in the house, but lucky for him none appeared as he followed the larger man down the hall.

Russia opened one of the many doors along the hallway and Canada saw a spacious, comfortable looking bathroom. The wallpaper was wearing away in places and the fixtures looked old, but they clearly worked because the large tub in the centre of the room was already full of steaming, soapy water.

_Well.. there goes my hopes for a solo shower._

Ivan tugged Matthew's leash and motioned that he should get into the bath. Canada's heart sped up as he realized his fears were coming true. Russia did indeed intend to bathe him.

Blushing furiously, Matthew stayed where he was, staring between the bathtub and the Russian. How could Ivan expect him to go along with this? This was outrageous! This was so humiliating! This was unthinkable! This was..

SMACK.

Canada yelped and jumped when the Russian used the end of the leash to smack him across his behind. A stinging red welt raised where the leather had hit him, and he rubbed at the spot. He opened his mouth to yell at Ivan in surprised anger, but gagged instead when the Russian yanked his leash. He was forced down over the bathroom counter and held there as two more loud slapping sounds echoed through the room. Ivan brought the leather down over the fair skin of Canada's ass, leaving bright red marks in their wake.

"Stop, Vanya! Please! I'll get in!" Matthew cried.

Ivan released him and Matthew trembled as he walked to the tub. He gingerly stepped in, careful not to slip, and lowered himself into the hot water. Normally he loved a steamy bath, but the heat made the welts on his poor bottom sting as he sat down. The leather leash dangled over the side of the tub. Ivan had let it go long enough to start taking off his shirt.

Matthew sunk low in the water as he watched, his eyes wide. Did Russia intend to get into the bathtub too? It was certainly big enough for two people, but Matthew thought he'd die if Ivan got naked and into the water with him. Still.. he couldn't help but admire as the Russian pulled his sweater over his head and tossed it aside. Ivan's shoulders were broad. His chest, tho not bulging and ripped like Germany, was well muscled. His arms were thick and strong and his skin was very pale. There were many faded scars.. but Matthew didn't have time to focus on them. Russia was kneeling beside the bathtub and reaching for a bar of soap and a washcloth.

_So.. he's not getting into the tub?_

Canada felt relieved. Ivan had only taken his sweater off to avoid getting it wet. He'd left his pants on.

The relief was short lived when Russia plunged the washcloth into the water, then worked up a good lather with the soap. He started by scrubbing at Canada's chest, then down both of his arms.

Matthew was so embarrassed and ashamed by what was happening that he wasn't sure what to do. He sat numbly, allowing the larger man to wash him, even leaning forward as Ivan scrubbed his way down his back.

He tensed when Russia's hands went beneath the water. He felt the cloth scrubbing at his legs, then his thighs.. Ivan lifted the cloth from the water to add more soap.. then went to work on his stomach.. and lower..

"V-Vanya.. p-please.." Matthew whispered, shaking. He grabbed Ivan's hand just as it brushed over his navel. He met the Russian's eyes, his own pleading and filled with anxious fear. No one had ever touched him there before.

"Please.. n-no.."

A silent and tense moment passed for the little Canadian.. then Ivan smiled and rinsed the washcloth and set it aside.

He picked up a small bottle of shampoo and squirted some into his palm. Matthew quickly cleaned himself down 'there', then leaned back into the water to wet his hair. Ivan set to work on washing it thoroughly.

Matthew remembered the last time someone had bathed him like this. It was Papa France, and he hadn't been alone in the tub. America had been with him, splashing and laughing and blowing soap suds everywhere. Canada, the quieter of the two, had obediently sat still as France washed his hair.. just as he sat obediently now for Russia.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as Ivan used a pitcher to rinse the soap from his locks. Once he was clean, Ivan stood and dried his hands and arms off on a towel. He put his shirt back on. Matthew stood and took Russia's hand for help in stepping out of the tub.

He was wrapped in a big, fluffy towel. He felt childish as the Russian rubbed him dry from head to toe. He knew this was just an excuse for Ivan's hands to be all over his body. And his body was treacherous as it reacted to the touch. He grabbed for the towel and wrapped it around his hips, bunching it at the front so Russia wouldn't see the growing hardness there.

If Ivan noticed, he didn't say anything. He took a brush from the bathroom counter and worked the tangles from the little blond's hair. When wet, Matthew's hair almost reached his shoulders. Ivan set the brush aside and hummed as he wrapped his arms around his damp Canadian.

"You are beautiful, Matvey." He said softly, and Matthew blushed. "You will grow your hair longer for me, da?"

_Grow my hair longer?_ Matthew blinked. _How long does he think he can keep me here?_

Truthfully, Canada had seriously thought about growing his hair out before. It was a little longer than America's hair now, and wavy, but it wasn't enough to keep from being mistaken for Alfred. A longer style - maybe even longer than Papa France - might help.

Russia turned him, and Canada noticed the mirror above the cupboard. He gazed at himself, and at Ivan who stood behind him, still holding him. The right side of his face, where Russia had hit him before was bruised.. his cheek was a strange mix of fading purple and yellow with the light rouge of a blush.

"Vanya?" Matthew said softly, his eyes following the mirror movements of Ivan's hands as they traveled up and down his bare arms.

"Mmm?" The Russian answered, as he brushed wet blond hair away from Canada's neck. Matthew felt his whole body go to gooseflesh when Ivan placed a soft kiss on his freshly washed skin, just above the collar. He grew harder beneath his towel and he wanted to pull away, but was afraid Ivan would become angry with him.

"May I have my glasses?"

Ivan stopped and straightened, then nodded with a smile.

"Of course. They are downstairs."

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief when the Russian moved away. The distraction had worked.

Ivan pulled a set of simple looking clothes from a drawer and handed them to Canada who turned, dropped his towel, and quickly dressed. He was happy to see the shirt was tunic-style and went down over his hips. Easier to hide an erection. He quickly pulled on the pair of pants he was given and tied the shirts sash over top.

Once he was dressed, Ivan took his leash and led Matthew out of the bathroom and back into the hall. They went down two flights of stairs and into what Matthew assumed was the main part of the Russian's house. It was large and looked as old as the upstairs, but at least it seemed well kept. Canada's earlier assumption that Ivan had servants was correct. A maid was at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for them as they descended.

Matthew turned his face away, feeling absolutely humiliated to be at the end of a leash as if he were an animal. The maid questioned Ivan in Russian, her voice soft and her eyes downcast in respect. He answered her, and she gave a short bow before hurrying off to some other part of the house.

Ivan tugged Matthew along through a sitting room, then down another hallway. The little Canadian glanced around as they walked, noticing details like the colour of the carpets, and the lavish decor. Beautiful paintings of Russian scenery lined the walls and Matthew couldn't help but admire. Ivan had good taste at least.

They entered a room that Matthew thought had to be straight out of a much earlier era, but not one he was familiar with. Thick, velvet blue drapes partially drawn back by chords of a golden colour lined a huge window that overlooked what would be a garden of flowers if it were Spring or Summer. There was a fireplace on one side of the room, and on it's mantel sat a set of exquisitely decorated nesting dolls. Overhead hung a handsome painting of Russia and his two sisters, Belarus and Ukraine, all dressed in traditional clothing.

The furniture in the room consisted of two love seats and a large armchair, each turned towards the fireplace which held a merrily crackling fire. Beyond them was a huge desk covered in mountains of paperwork. A laptop sat at the centre and looked out of place alongside everything else.

Vases with sunflowers added more colour to the room, along with other various paintings of Russia's past rulers and an old world map that had to be at least a hundred years old. There were bookcases everywhere, overflowing with all kinds of reading material. There was a small wet bar not far from the desk, with cupboards overhead that held more varieties of vodka than Matthew had ever seen in his life.

A cello sat in one corner, and beside it there was even a phonograph playing beautiful classical music.

Canada was impressed. Russia was obviously much more than just a crazy old nation who dragged around a metal faucet and threatened to make everyone 'one with him'. He had taste and lived like a gentleman. This room wasn't so much different than the ones he'd spent so much time in as a child living under England's house.

"This is my office." Ivan said, as tho Matthew hadn't guessed that already. "We will be spending lots of time here, da?"

He led Matthew to the window behind the large desk. The little Canadian was delighted to see it had a window seat covered in soft, cushy looking pillows. Papa France had a window just like this at his house. He used to spend hours curled up there, reading books and playing with his polar bear.

Looking out through the window showed Matthew that there would indeed be a garden growing there come Spring. He sat down and gazed at the snowy hedges and trees and wondered if he would still be trapped there with Russia when the weather warmed up.

Russia left him and went to open a drawer in the desk. A moment later, Matthew had his glasses handed to him. He smiled in thanks and put them on. He blinked a few times to refocus his eyes, then looked up at Ivan.

The larger man was smiling down at him. There was such an expression of affection in his eyes that Matthew blushed and had to look away. Russia's hand was in his hair again, petting it lovingly.

"You will be happy here, Matvey." He said softly, "I promise. No more loneliness."

Matthew pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.

_No more loneliness. For me or for him?_

He wondered if Russia was lonely. Once upon a time this house had been full of nations. Now it stood empty, save for Russia himself and his servants. Perhaps his sisters came to visit from time to time, but Matthew doubted anyone else ever did. Russia was never ignored or forgotten like Canada was, but no one ever wanted to be around him. Everyone was afraid of him.

Matthew frowned at himself. Was he starting to feel sorry for the man who'd kidnapped him?

Well.. maybe he was.

Maybe Russia had brought him here because he just wanted a friend... and didn't know how to go about getting one without the use of force.

He looked up at Ivan.. and allowed a tiny smile to cross his lips.

A knock came at the door. The maid entered, carrying a silver tray. She served hot tea to Russia, and to Matthew, then left, closing the door behind her. Ivan went to a bookcase nearby and pulled down a thick tomb. He handed it to Matthew, who took it and read the title.

'Cyrillic Script For Beginners'.

"No one in this house speak English but me. This is your home now. You learn Russian, da?"

Matthew sighed and chewed on his bottom lip. He nodded. It was best to go along with what Russia wanted for now, and it never hurt to learn a new language anyway.

Ivan smiled and turned to sit at his desk. Matthew watched as he started working on one of the piles of paperwork. The leash had been dropped and left. Canada picked up it's end and tucked it beneath one of the cushions so it wasn't dangling on the floor.

With nothing else to do, Matthew opened the book to page one and began to read. The music played softly and the afternoon hours rolled away through the sky with the sun.


	6. Chapter 6

Matthew felt a whole range of different emotions during the dinner hour. By the end of the night he knew he would be exhausted.

The same maid who'd served them tea in the afternoon had come to knock on the office door again, informing them that it was time for dinner. Russia signed one last document, then rose from his seat and stretched. Matthew set his book aside and stood as well. He tucked the leash behind his back, hoping that Ivan would have forgotten about it. But.. no such luck.

The Russian turned to him with a smile. He tilted the little Canadian's chin up and carefully shifted the metal collar around so that the leash hung at the front. Then he took the leash and tugged Matthew along out of the office.

Matthew followed, turning his face away from the maid so he wouldn't have to see the expression on her face. He was sure she must be laughing at him.

His head sunk lower as they entered the dining room. There were all sorts of servants waiting for them, making final dinner arrangements. The table was long and formal, but there were only two places set. A large, beautifully carved wooden chair at the end, and a smaller, simpler one to the right of it.

Russia pulled out the smaller chair for Canada to sit, as if he were a gentleman being polite to a lady, and Matthew felt his pride crumpling into an even smaller ball inside his stomach. But he sat down anyway. Ivan took his seat at the head of the table.

Dinner was served.

Canada quickly realized that thankfully none of the servants were paying any attention to him. It was all much too formal, much too.. synchronized. Almost like a dance. Dishes were presented to Ivan and he shook his head or nodded depending on what he wanted to eat. His approved dishes were quickly served up on his plate, and onto Matthew's plate too. It seemed whatever was good enough for Russia, was good enough for Canada. Glasses were filled with water, and then other glasses were filled with fine wine. Still, more glasses were filled with vodka. No surprise there.

Ivan lifted a wine glass and gazed at Matthew. Matthew took his own glass and lifted it as well, gently 'tinking' it together with Ivan`s.. tho he couldn't imagine what the man wanted to toast.

"To us." Ivan smiled, then took a drink.

"...us.." Matthew repeated quietly, then carefully sipped at the wine. It tasted very good, but Canada knew he should be careful not to drink too much. After what happened in the bath, he didn't trust himself. He didn't want to become drunk and even more vulnerable.

Matthew turned his attention to his plate and the food that had been chooen for him. It was all completely foreign to him, except for maybe the sausage. Canada was no stranger to different foods. He was a multi-cultured country, afterall.. but he had to admit that Russian food wasn't very common. He couldn't remember if he'd ever seen a restaurant that served Russian food, even in Toronto. He was sure there were some, but he'd never been to one.

"Eat."

Matthew glanced up at Ivan, who was now sipping from his glass of vodka. When the blond continued to hesitate, the Russian set his glass down and picked up Matthew's fork. He scooped up a bite of food and held it to Matthew's mouth.

Canada grimaced, feeling silly. He peeked around to make sure none of the servants were watching - they weren't - and opened his mouth to accept the forkful. Ivan watched as he chewed. It did taste good. Different from the meat and potatoes he preferred to eat for dinner at home, but it was very tasty all the same.

"Is good, da?" Ivan asked, and Matthew nodded. He took his fork from Russia and began eating on his own.

Russia was silent as they ate, and tho he kept his eyes downcast to his plate, Matthew could feel the larger man watching him.

After the main meal came dessert, and Canada didn't need any coaxing at all to eat that. Sweet cake and more fresh berries with honey, mmmm.

Ivan drained the last of his third glass of vodka, then rose from the table. Matthew knew he shouldn't have been surprised that the larger man wasn't drunk, but he was anyway. He'd barely touched his own alcohol, save for the water.

What he wouldn't give for a cold beer..

He stood as well, and as Russia took his leash and started to lead him from the dinning room the servants descended on the table to begin clearing it. One of the maids, a young woman, looked at him as she passed. Matthew met her gaze for a fraction of a second and she smiled at him. He blushed and looked away.

Russia led him back to the office. He had Matthew sit down on one of the loveseats, then went to build the dying fire back up. The sun had set by then and the room had grown dark and chilly.

Canada watched as Russia added wood to the fire, then shoved the logs around with a poke. The flames grew, and the light inside the room increased.. as did the warmth.. but only slightly. Matthew wrapped his arms around himself and tried not to shiver. He felt silly to be so cold here when it was just as cold back home. He nearly jumped out of his seat when a large, furry grey thing suddenly jumped up onto his lap.

"Ah, Koshka!" Ivan gave the logs in the fire one final shove, then set the poke down and brushed his hands off on his pants. He came to settle down on the loveseat beside Matthew and began scratching behind the cats ears.

"Good kitty. You like Matvey?"

Koshka purred and butted his head against Canada's chest. Matthew squeaked out a laugh, breathing out the last of his startle, and began to pet the cats soft fur.

"I.. didn't take you for a cat person." he said softly.

Ivan smiled and wrapped his arm around Canada's shoulders. Koshka lifted his chin when Russia began scratching him there next. He was so large his purr was vibrating Matthew's lap.

"Koshka was sad kitty with no home. I found him wandering street. He was hungry and lonely, so he come with me. Now he keeps mice from house.. and keeps me company."

Koshka began kneading against Matthew's leg. Canada squinted his eyes shut as ten sharp little claws poked in and out of his pant leg. Eventually the cat settled into a large ball and fell asleep in Canada's lap. Matthew let out a sigh of relief and leaned his head back against the back of the loveseat. He was a nation who kept a polar bear as a pet, yet Russia's oversized cat just had him fearing for his skin.

Ivan's fingers tangled themselves in his hair, then began massaging the back of his neck beneath the collar. Matthew knew Russia was watching him again. He turned his head away and gazed at the moonlight through the window.

"Are you comfortable, Matvey?" Russia asked. Matthew wasn't sure how to respond.

_Physically, yes. Emotionally, no. I want to go home._

Russia reached for Canada's hand and took it. He raised it to his lips and kissed the back gently. Matthew resisted the urge to make a fist and punch him in his big nose.

"What can I do? How can I make my little Matvey happy?"

"Let me go."

Matthew turned his gaze back to the larger man. He frowned at Russia and pulled his hand away.

Ivan shook his head.

"No. You are staying here. You belong to me."

"I don't belong to you!" Matthew cried, upsetting the sleeping cat on his lap. Koshka lifted his head and eyed him, as if Canada were the worst sort of evil that he should be loud and disturb his sacred rest.

Matthew sighed and pet the cat. He noted that the feline had a long, broad nose.. just like his owner.

"You do belong to me." Russia said, his fingers closing around the chain at Matthew's neck. He tugged on it lightly, as if reminding Matthew of his position. "You are like Koshka. You are.." the Russian was quiet for a moment, searching for the right word. "...a pet."

Matthew's eyes were wide as he stared at Russia. Shock sent a pins and needles sensation all over his body. Outrage heated, then boiled in his blood.

"A.. a pet? I'm not a pet! I'm Canada! You can't keep me like you keep your cat! I'm a nation!"

Koshka had had enough. He jumped off Matthew's lap and disappeared into the darkness.

Matthew shoved Ivan's hand away from his collar and jumped up off the loveseat. The leash swung out behind him like a tail as he made for the fire, grabbing the poke from where Russia had left it. He spun around and waved it threateningly.

"I've had enough of his nonesense!"

"Put it down, Matvey." Russia said calmly. He stood and carefully stalked around Matthew, putting himself between the blond and the fire. He held his hand out. "Give it to me."

"No!" Matthew yelled, taking a swing at Ivan who moved out of the way just in time. But still he advanced, slowly, and Canada backed away.

"I want to go home!" Matthew swung the poke again, more out of desperation than as a true attack. He was more frightened now than angry. The fire made Russia's eyes glow. The man was huge, and Matthew feared for his life.

"You are home."

Matthew furiously shook his head, still backing away, then yelped in surprise when his leg hit a small stand. He tripped and fell over it, knocking it to the floor along with the vase that was sitting atop it. The vase smashed and the poke flew out of his hand. Matthew scrambled to get back to his feet but it was too late.. Russia was on top of him.

The air in his lungs was crushed from his chest when a heavy knee trapped him face down on the floor. He struggled as hard as he could, twisting around and grasping at whatever he could to try and get away. Shards of glass from the broken vase dug into the palms of his hands, embedding themselves deeply and drawing blood.

He coughed and gasped for air and Russia stood, pulling the little Canadian up after him. Free to breathe again, Matthew struggled on. Ivan held him fast, grabbing a wrist and twisting it painfully behind the blond's back. He bunched a great handful of Canada's hair and pulled his head back so that Canada was off balance.

"Calm down, little one. It's ok. I'm here."

The gentle words spoken to him as tho he were a child only served to infuriate Matthew even further. He kicked and tried to punch and bite and.. anything to get away from Russia's grasp.. but it was all in vain. Ivan had him in a vice-like grip and would not let go no matter how hard Matthew fought to get free.

Eventually.. the blond tired himself out. When his struggles calmed, then ceased.. Russia released his hair and arm.. and pulled Matthew back into his embrace.

Canada couldn't hold back his tears anymore. He burst into tears.

"It's alright." Russia gathered Matthew up into his arms and lifted him. "It's over now. It's ok."

Matthew wrapped his arms around Ivan's neck and sobbed into the mans chest. Russia carried him from the office and up the stairs. He kept speaking in a soothing voice, reassuring him that it was ok, he was there, it would be alright.

Ivan carried Matthew to the bathroom and set him down on a stool. Matthew kept crying. Through his tears he saw his bloodied palms. He was a mess.

Russia took a little kit from the cupboard and opened it, taking out a pair of tweezers. He wet a washcloth with cold water, then knelt before Matthew. He took the little blonds hands and carefully dabbed them with the washcloth, cleaning them before using the tweezers to pick all the little shards of glass from his palms.

Matthew's tears subsided into sniffles. He watched Russia caring for his hands and wondered how this same man, so gentle and kind, could be so cruel and call him a pet. But then.. maybe it wasn't cruel to Russia. Ivan had said he was like the grey cat.. hadn't he? Koshka had been hungry and lonely.. but now he was obviously well fed and cared for.

Ivan finished with his hands and set the tweezers aside. He stood and guided Matthew to the sink where he rinsed away the rest of the blood. Canada's hands were gently wrapped in gauze, then bandages.

Matthew was exhausted. He followed Russia from the bathroom and back into the little bedroom that was his. He made no objection when Ivan unlocked the leash from his neck and replaced it with the chain. He was chained to the bed again, but Matthew was too tired to care. He let Ivan push him down against the mattress.

Russia tucked Canada's blanket around him, then sat down on the edge of the bed. He pet Matthew's hair back from his face. Matthew watched him through half-lidded eyes.

"You belong to me." he said softly, and Canada turned his face away again.. but Russia took hold of his chin and turned it back. "Say it."

Matthew closed his eyes. There was no more fighting it.

"I belong to you.. Vanya."

Russia smiled, then leaned down and placed the softest kiss on Canada's lips.

"Goodnight, my little Matvey."

He stood and left the room. He left the door unlocked and open just slightly.

A few minutes later Matthew felt something jump up onto the bed with him. Koshka stepped onto his chest and settled down for a sleep. Matthew was too tired to pet him, and his hands were too torn up. The cat didn't seem to mind tho, and purred anyway.

Canada, lulled by the purring, fell into sleep himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Days began to pass.

A routine established itself. Russia came early every morning to unlock Matthew's chain, trading it for the leash. He never had to tug Canada along behind him anymore. Matthew followed willingly. He had no more will to fight back.

Each morning there was a bath. Ivan washed him with sweet smelling soaps and shampoo, then rinsed him clean. Matthew stopped being embarrassed over it. He couldn't wash himself anyway. His hands were sore and would take time to heal.

The Russian never tried to touch him 'there' during the baths, and for that Canada was grateful. Ivan could do whatever he liked - Matthew knew this - but he was being nothing but gentle. The amount of care Ivan was dedicating to his well-being almost made Canada forget how truly bizarre and wrong the entire situation really was.

With each passing day it almost became normal.

After the baths, he was given clothes to dress in. He never wore the same outfit twice, and he was beginning to feel like a doll. Russia dressed him in fine materials and colours, and always something Russian-style. Some of the outfits were even slightly feminine, adorned with beautiful patterns and even flowers, but Matthew never complained. He was just happy not to be forced to go around naked.

Breakfast was served in a pretty little nook of a room which held a huge window that faced the wintery garden outside. There was always fresh fruit and sweet honey. Tea and milk and blini that had been fattened up a bit a Ivan's request to be more like the Canadian's beloved pancakes.

Lunch was taken in the office, where Russia filled out his paperwork at his desk and Matthew sat behind him at the window seat, reading his book. He had learned the Russian alphabet and a few simple phrases.. at least in theory. Over dinner Russia would sound out the letters and some words with him, but he had little time to sit down and truly teach the language to the blond. Not in the way languages should be taught, and Russian was not an easy language.

So most of their conversation throughout breakfast, lunch and dinner was in English. They talked about hockey, about their fellow nations, and about the cold.

"When will it get warm?" Matthew asked.

"Spring begins in April, same as in Canada." Russia answered.

Ivan talked about the beauty of his rugged countryside, and Matthew told him he longed to see it for himself. The Russian promised to take him out soon, but for now there was too much work to be done. The little blond believed him - he saw the mountains of paperwork and watched as Russia made his way through it - but he also knew Ivan would not take him away from the house until he could be trusted not to try and escape.

And so Matthew's world was made up of the few rooms in Russia's house that he was allowed in. The bathroom, the dinningroom, the breakfast nook, and the office. Ivan was always with him. The only time he was by himself was at night, when he was brought back to the little bedroom and chained to the bed to sleep.

There were touches. Russia would wrap his arm around Canada in the evenings when they had tea before the fire. Fingers were always in his hair, petting and twirling the wavy locks. Matthew often found himself wrapped up in a hug whenever he did or said something the Russian approved of. At first he was uncomfortable, but he gradually came to love those hugs. He began to do things and say things he thought might please Ivan. He felt warm and special whenever he was rewarded with strong arms embracing him, holding him tightly. Ivan smelled wonderful and Matthew would bury his nose into the the larger mans chest and breathe in deeply.

He watched Russia whenever he had the chance.. whenever Russia wasn't watching him back. He studied the mans face. His gaze lingered on the thick mop of wispy hair that once must have been ash blond. Time, decades of war and harsh winters had turned it silver. It framed Russia's pale face and Matthew thought it suited him. His chin was strong and his nose, of course, stood out prominently. His cheeks always seemed to have a slight blush about them, and his lips looked soft and full. Matthew's own face would blush deeply when he caught himself wondering how those lips might feel against his own and he'd quickly turn his attention to something else. Like Ivan's eyes.

_My God, those eyes._

The colour was violet and so similar to his own, but the soul behind them.. the depth and the expression displayed in those sad, haunted eyes.. Even when Russia smiled there was sadness there, and Matthew wondered how anyone could ever think it was difficult to read the Russian's mood. He quickly learned what Ivan was thinking and feeling.. just by looking into his eyes.

"Matvey.. read your book." Russia smirked at him one afternoon, and Canada blinked. He realized he'd been staring and blushed. He whispered out an apology and shoved his face back between the pages of 'Cyrillic for Beginners'. He was on the last few pages tho. He would be finished very soon, and then what? He needed to practice what he'd learned. He'd sounded out the alphabet to Koshka, who often sat with him on the window seat, but the cat only flicked his ear.

Ivan found a solution.

Matthew was gazing out the window when a soft knock came at the office door. A servant girl walked into the room, her eyes shyly downcast at the floor. She came and stood before Russia's desk, and Ivan rose with a smile.

"Matvey, this is Alina."

Matthew peeked around Russia and saw it was the same servant girl who'd smiled at him after dinner days ago. She curtsied politely, but did not look up. She was young.. she looked to be no more than eighteen human years old. She was pretty, as all Russian women were pretty, with light yellow hair, blue eyes, and pale skin.

"As it turns out, Alina can speak English." Russia's tone was slightly scolding, and the servant girl's face grew red with shame. "She will teach you Russian. Da?"

The girl bowed to Ivan, then turned and went to sit on the floor beside the fireplace. Matthew blinked from her, to Russia. Ivan motioned that he should join the girl, so Matthew picked up his leash and went to sit on the floor with her. He brought along his book and she took it from him and opened it to the first page.

"Please speak Russian alphabet." she said, her eyes on the pages of the book. Matthew swallowed and began sounding out the letters. She stopped and corrected him periodically, and he practiced with her until he got everything perfect.

Russia sat back down at his desk and continued his work. Music from the phonograph played softly.

Later that day Russia's boss came to see Ivan for business. Matthew was sent to another room with Alina to continue practicing.. and to be out of the way. They were given a small sitting room decorated tastefully with dried flowers, soft chairs with cushions, and paintings of mountains. With the door closed, their lesson continued like normal. Matthew was learning to hold a simple conversation in Russian. After a few minutes tho.. when he was sure Ivan would not be returning for them any time soon.. he switched to English.

"Did he give you trouble?" he asked the young girl. He played with the collar about his neck.

Alina blinked up at him from the book, her eyes confused.

"Russia." Matthew said, "Were you in trouble with Russia for speaking English?"

The girl slowly nodded her head.

"He say.. I should have told him when I came to work here."

Images of Ivan beating the girl for insubordination flashed through Canada's mind and he felt terrible. It was his fault she'd been in trouble.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, gazing over the girls face and arms. He didn't see any bruises.

Alina tilted her head, her eyes still full of confusion. When she saw the look of concern on Matthew's face she suddenly began to giggle. She set the book aside and folded her hands in her lap and smiled at him.

"He didn't hurt me, Matvey. He say 'I wish you told me sooner', then tell me he give me more pay to teach you Russian."

"...pay..?" Now Matthew was confused.

"Da. Russia gives good pay. I was so happy to come work for him. My family is poor. I send money to them, and even have some left to save. I learned English because I want to travel someday to English country. Britain or America.. maybe even Canada." She smiled at him shyly.

Matthew sat back in his chair, feeling a little dazed. He'd half expected that Russia kept his servants like slaves and beat them with whips in a dungeon when they disobeyed him. He tried to think back to what he'd heard about the three Baltic nations and the way they'd been treated during their time under Russia's rule. The rumors about the way Lithuania had been beaten and raped.. but.. those were different times.. and Lithuania was a nation.. not a human.

He looked at Alina again. She was smiling and cheerful, and seemed much more relaxed now that they were alone.

"Russia is so happy since you are here, Matvey." She reached for his hands, squeezing them. "Everyone can feel it. Winter doesn't seem so cold when he is happy. The children smile and laugh, and the old have less aches and pain."

Matthew couldn't help but smile for her. He was glad for her and her people. He knew that a peoples combined sense of peace and wellbeing depended on the nation that represented them. If Ivan had been pleased these past few days it was clearly reflected in Alina's cheerful smile.

He had to wonder about his own people tho, and worried for them. His fear and anger and sadness must have affected them too. He hoped they were ok. His smile faded as he thought of his home.. and of his little polar bear. He knew Kumajiro would be ok without him but.. Matthew missed him. Missed holding him in his lap and snuggling into the soft, white fur.

Alina cupped his cheek in her hand, and Canada met her eyes. She smiled at him, silently reassuring him that it would be ok. He decided that he liked her. He told her so in Russian, and she giggled. She picked the book back up and their lesson continued.

Later, Russia came to collect them. Alina was sent off to help with dinner preparations, and Matthew was wrapped in warm clothes and a cloak and given a pair of boots along with a pair of furry mitts to protect his still healing hands.

"We're going outside?" He asked, watching as Russia pulled on his own warm clothing. Ivan nodded.

"Da. After visit from boss I always feel need to be in open air. Freedom."

_I can relate to that.. _Matthew thought to himself. He did his best to stay out of his own boss' way. He hated politics in his own country almost as much as he hated attending world meetings. He knew he should try to be more involved.. more of a leader.. but he was shy and quiet. He never liked to make a fuss.

Ivan opened the door that led outside into the garden and Matthew would have dashed ahead if not for the hand that held his leash. He walked out behind Russia and breathed deeply of the fresh, clean air. The sun was setting and snow was falling gently from the sky.

The snow was knee deep and even tho there was a shoveled path leading through the garden, Matthew jumped into the snow and walked in it instead. He jumped through the drifts, out as far as the leash would allow, and enjoyed the way it squeaked and crunched beneath his boots.

Being holed up in the house for days had Matthew wishing he could run around and build a dozen snowmen.. but Ivan walked calmly beside him, looking off into the distance as tho he were lost in thought.

_I wonder if his boss was tough on him.. _Matthew thought. He'd heard that Russia's bosses were always hard on him, always demanding more and more.

Matthew blew out a breath of frosty air and frowned. It was no fun to be outside while Ivan was being silent and pensive.

He rolled up a ball of snow.. and threw it.

Smuck! Right into the back of Ivan's head.

The Russian gasped in surprise, his shoulders drawn up tightly to try and prevent the freezing cold from dripping down his back. He'd dropped the leash. Matthew hooted out a laugh and danced away to a safe distance. He rolled another snowball and threw it, but missed. Ivan had turned and was staring at him as if he were confused by what had just happened.. but a third snowball that hit him in the arm snapped him to attention and sent him into action.

A huge smile broke over his face and he bent to make his own snowball. Matthew ducked the frozen missile, then ran off laughing. He was faster than Ivan and outran him to the end of the garden. Russia gave up the chase and launched more snowballs instead, hitting Matthew on his backside. Canada ducked behind a tree for protection, hurrying to ball more snow to retaliate. Once he was re-armed, he stepped out from behind the tree to aim.. but a snowball smacked him in the shoulder and knocked him off balance. He'd dropped his ammunition and when he scrambled to pack more snow Russia used the moment to charge. He caught Matthew in a tackle that sent them both sprawling into the snow.

Their laughter echoed through the garden.

The little blond squirmed to try and escape the Russians grasp, but Ivan held him trapped beneath his body. He caught both Matthew's arms and pulled them above his head, holding them captive. Matthew gazed up at the man who held him and found himself captive in another way. Russia was beautiful. His silver hair was lit by the setting sun. His cheeks were rosy with the cold and his eyes were alive with the fun they'd just had together.

Ivan gazed back down at him, then leaned down to brush his lips across Matthew's. Canada's breath caught in his throat and he froze, unsure of what to do.. or think. Russia's lips were warm and soft, patiently waiting for the little blond to respond. Matthew closed his eyes and hesitantly opened his lips and began to kiss back.

Ivan released his wrists and instead cupped his cheeks, tilting his face up to allow better access. When Russia's tongue touched his bottom lip, asking for entrance, Matthew opened his mouth and the kiss deepened.

He felt a warmth growing in his belly.. one that pooled between his legs and made him shift involuntarily against the larger man above him. He traced his mitted hands up along the Russian's shoulders and grasped at his jacket. He brushed his own tongue along Ivan's lower lip and shivered when the response was a moan.

He shivered harder.

Russia broke the kiss and pulled back, gazing down at Canada laying in the snow. Matthew's cheeks were flushed red and his hair was covered with white. Even his eyelashes were sticking together with snowflakes.

Ivan kissed the little blond once more, then pulled them both up and off the ground. Matthew's teeth chattered. Russia pulled him into a warm hug. He kissed the top of the blond's head, then took his hand.

"Come, my little Matvey. We will go inside, warm up, and have dinner."

As he was led towards the house, Matthew tried not to think about what had just taken place. But despite how absolutely frozen he felt from being outside and laying in the snow.. the warmth of Russia's kiss remained.


	8. Chapter 8

The morning sun peeked through Matthew's tiny bedroom window.

He woke as he did every morning now with Koshka sprawled out over most of his pillow. His face was pressed into the cats furry side.

Matthew suppressed a sneeze, then sat up and brushed the cat hair away from his nose. He yawned and stretched.

"Good morning, Matvey."

The bedroom door opened and Russia walked in. Canada smiled and crawled off the bed. He shuffled into the embrace he received every morning. He rubbed his sleepy face into Russia's chest, breathing in deeply.

_Mmmmm... _

Ivan leaned down to kiss the little blond on the forehead.

"Did you sleep well?"

Matthew nodded. Sorta. There was head movement involved, but mostly he just leaned into Russia, enjoying the warmth and comfort that surrounded him.

Ivan chuckled and brought out the key that would free Canada from the chain attached to the bed. There was no leash today. Instead, Russia took his hand and Matthew followed him to the bathroom.

The bath was already drawn, as usual. Matthew pulled the nightshirt he'd been wearing from his body, no longer feeling shame in his nudity. Before he stepped into the tub tho, Russia took his hands and unwrapped the bandages.

"Almost better." Ivan smiled, inspecting the little blond's palms. "We leave them unwrapped today. Careful not to stretch skin or cuts will open again."

"Ok." Matthew agreed, gazing at his hands. There were tiny little cuts all over his palms, but now they were scabbed over and clean. His hands were still sore, but Russia was right. It was best to leave them to the open air to finish healing.

Once in the bath, Matthew leaned his head back as Russia washed his hair. His eyes were closed and he was relaxed enough to almost fall asleep again.

"I am going out today."

Canada blinked his eyes back open and he shifted to sit up straight. He tilted his head at Ivan, his eyes filling rapidly with confusion and anxiety.

"Do not look so worried, my little Matvey." Ivan chuckled, dabbing a little soap on the end of Canada's nose.

"But where are you going?" Matthew asked. _And when are you coming back? Will you be gone long? Will I be chained up somewhere by myself all day? _

"My boss has matters for me to attend to. I must go to government buildings today. I be back before night. Alina will keep you company during day. Koshka too."

Russia rinsed Matthew's hair with the pitcher, and the bath was over. Canada stepped out of the tub and was wrapped up in a fluffy towel. He chewed his bottom lip as Russia handed him his clothing for the day.. a soft white tunic with delicate blue flowers embroidered on the front and sleeves, and a light blue sash. Ivan brushed out his hair and fixed it with a matching blue headband.

Matthew gazed at himself in the mirror. Russia stood behind him, hands resting on his shoulders. He watched as Ivan admired him. His cheeks coloured and he had to look away.

"Promise that you behave and I will leave you free."

Matthew looked back into the mirror-Ivan's eyes. His heart filled with hope at the thought of being free for the day, instead of chained up.

_I could escape.. I could run for it!_

Conflicting emotions plunged heart in a tug of war inside his chest. The thrill of the thought of escape. The longing to go home. The fear that he wouldn't know where to run to and would get lost before he made it to Russia's borders. The terror of being caught and returned to an angry Ivan. The ache of disappointing the Russian.. of hurting his feelings.. after he'd been so kind and gentle.. and took such special care of him..

Matthew shook his head to clear it. No, no. No running. The thought of escaping brought too many confusing and negative feelings with it. It was easier not to think about it, and instead enjoy the thought of being free to wander the house for the day. Spend time talking to Alina. Play with Koshka. Have a nice nap in the office. Eat sweet honey over blini for lunch and drink tea. Go outside and build a hundred snowmen if he wanted to. Wait for Russia to come home and look forward to snuggling with the man before a fire in the evening. Yes. Those were good feelings. Those were happy thoughts.

"I promise, Vanya." Matthew turned and wrapped his arms around the Russian's neck. Ivan smiled and folded his little Canadian into his arms and bent his head to kiss him softly.

They shared another kiss in the front hall of Russia's large house. This one was goodbye. Matthew watched as Ivan, dressed in ceremonial military clothes, left the house. He felt another emotion tugging inside of his chest. Sadness. He would be without Ivan for the day. All day.

He stood in the hallway chewing his bottom lip. He touched the collar about his neck, feeling strange without the leash attached to it. Now that he was by himself.. he wasn't sure what to do.

"Matvey?"

He turned and saw Alina standing at the entrance to the hallway.

"Would you like some tea?

Matthew smiled and nodded. She took his hand and they walked to the little breakfast nook together.

She had a day full of chores to do, and Canada followed her through the house like a puppy. She told him stories of her village and family, and he clung to every accented word. He tried to ask her questions and talk to her in Russian, and she giggled at his mistakes, but rewarded his successes with smiles.

In the kitchen she was cleaning a silver tea set. Matthew was helping her, polishing the saucers and little spoons to a fine shine.

"Tell me about you?"

Matthew was in the middle of rubbing off fingerprints from a spoon. He almost dropped it when Alina asked the question and he looked at her as tho she had two heads. She wanted to know about him? How strange! No one ever wanted to know about him..

"I like being outside.." he started, hesitating over his words. "...and I don't mind snow and ice. I love hockey and maple syrup. I don't say 'aboot' or 'eh' as much as people think I do.."

"No no," Alina giggled, "Tell me about Canada. Your home."

"Oh." Matthew blinked. That was an even stranger thing to be asked to talk about. Didn't everyone think Canada was completely boring? Except for those hardcore eco-types of course. "Um.. well.. what would you like to know?"

"Tell me what it's like there. Tell me about your people."

Matthew was quiet, wondering if she was really serious and truly wanted to know about his land and his people. He couldn't believe someone was actually interested in him.

_Well.. I guess Russia is interested in me.. _

Matthew blushed.

"Um.. well.. Canada's people come from all over the world.. but when I was very little it was mostly filled with aboriginals, French and English.."

He began to explain his history to her. He told her about his traditions and holidays. He told her about the things his people loved, and he told her how upset he was that everyone mistook him for America. He carefully explained that while he looked like America, he was completely different.

"I don't think you look like America, Matvey." Alina smiled at him.

Matthew smirked back at her. "You're just being nice."

"No, really. Look."

She held up a silver plate so he could look into it as tho it were a mirror.

"I have seen pictures of America. You do not look like him. Your face is younger. Your eyes are kind. You are quiet and soft."

Matthew gazed at his reflection in the silver plate. He saw that she was right. He didn't look like America. He looked more like a girl with his hair pulled back by the blue headband. He wondered how hard Alfred would laugh at him if he saw..

He found he didn't care.

He took the plate from her and set it aside. He picked up another spoon and began to polish it.

"Let me tell you about my mounted police.."

Alina grinned and listened intently.

The day spent in Alina's company was pleasant, but as the hours passed by Matthew began to feel anxious. Normally by this time he would be sitting down to dinner with Russia in the dinning room.

_Where is he? What's taking him so long? _

Matthew was sprawled out over one of the loveseats in the office. Koshka lay on the floor in front of him, half on his back as Matthew tickled his tummy. Alina sat in the armchair, reading aloud in Russian from a classic fairytale book. She stopped when she noticed the blond nation wasn't listening to her. He was distracted and fidgeting around.

"You must be hungry by now. Would you like something to eat?"

Matthew looked up at her sadly and shook his head.

"He's not home yet.." he said softly. He wanted to wait for Russia to come home so they could eat together.

"Don't worry, Matvey.. he will be home. Russia is always late when he has to go and see president."

Matthew sighed and reached down to pull Koshka up with him on the loveseat as he flopped over onto his back. The cat sprawled out over his chest and purred happily when Canada hugged him and nuzzled into the fur at the top of his head. Alina continued reading, telling the story of the Firebird.

An hour later Matthew's stomach was growling too much for him to stand it anymore. Alina led the way back into the kitchen. Canada followed, carrying Koshka along with him.

"It is silly, to carry cat around like toy." Alina giggled as she began to prepare something for the blond nation to eat. "Tho it doesn't seem he minds it."

She prepared a bowl of borscht for him, and he'd eaten halfway through it when they heard Russia's familiar voice calling through the house that he was home.

Matthew disappeared from the kitchen in a hurry, leaving his soup behind. Alina smiled as he went, then turned to find something for herself to eat.

Russia was brushing snow from his shoulders when Canada hurried into the front hallway. There was no hesitation, no pause, before the Canadian had run straight into him. Arms wrapped about Ivan's chest, and Matthew breathed deeply of his scent. He smelled of the city, of the outside and the snow.. but mostly he just smelled like Vanya, his Vanya, and he was home.

_I'm like a dog.. greeting it's master after a long day.. _

Matthew pushed his faced into Ivan's chest. The Russian wrapped him into a tight hug and he felt his narrowed-down world falling back into place. He really was like a dog.. and Ivan was his master.

A servant entered the front hall and Canada stepped away long enough for Russia to take his jacket and boots off and hand them over so they could be properly put away. Then Ivan picked up a package he'd brought home with him and headed to his office. Matthew followed.

Russia closed the door and set the package aside. Now that they were alone he pulled the little blond into his arms and kissed him. Matthew was tense only for a moment, but then relaxed. He opened his mouth when the Russian brushed his tongue along his lips. He twirled his tongue with Ivan's, feeling warmth beginning to pool in his belly the same way it had the day before.

Ivan's hands were wandering over his shoulders and back, then lower. Large palms cupped his rear and pulled him close and Matthew could feel a hardness digging into his stomach.

He broke the kiss with a gasp and wiggled out of the Russian's grasp. His face was flushed hot and he was breathing heavily. His eyes were focused on the front of Russia's pants. The evidence of arousal was there.. and it frightened him.

Ivan gazed at him for a long moment, then cleared his throat. He turned away to pick up the package, then held it out for Canada to take.

Inside of a bag was a medium sized box. Inside the box was..

"A fiddle?" Matthew asked. He carefully took the instrument out of the box and cradled it like a baby.

"Not fiddle." said Russia, "Violin. The finest I could find."

"Thank you.." Matthew said softly. He was so shocked by the gift that his fear was completely forgotten.

Ivan put his hand on the little blond's shoulder and steered him to the love seat. Matthew sat down and admired the violin as the Russian went to start a fire in the fireplace. He traced his fingers over the carved wood, admiring the craftsmanship. It was beautiful.

Once the fire was crackling away in the hearth, Ivan sunk down into the armchair. A great sigh left his lips, as tho he were exhaling the weight of a country that had been bearing down on his chest. His eyes closed, and he breathed deeply.

Canada chewed his bottom lip. Whatever Russia had been through that day had clearly caused him stress. He could see the tension in the way Ivan's brow couldn't seem to unknit itself. He wasn't sure what Russian internal politics were like, but they must be very difficult. He felt guilty for having spent the entire day with nothing to do but pester Alina.

"Play for me." Ivan said, his eyes still closed.

Matthew smiled. His own fiddle - violin - at home was nearly worn out. He'd hauled it all across his land to play with any and all of his people who could and would. from Nova Scotia, Quebec, the Ottawa Valley, the people of the Metis, to Saskatchewan, Alberta, and B.C. His people loved to fiddle and step dance and Matthew loved to do it with them.

He was so happy to play for Russia! And he was so happy to think that Russia would be calmed and cheered by the trills and twines of a peppy Canadian tune.

He rested the violin between his shoulder and chin and slung the bow carefully over the strings a few times. He made small adjustments to tune it. When he was ready be began tapping his foot to kick off a beat and started off into a favourite jig straight from the Maritimes.

"No!"

Matthew almost dropped the instrument from the startle of Ivan's sudden objection. The song was cut short with a stringy screech and the little Canadian's eyes were wide as Russia stared at him in dismay.

"No.. no. Not.. not like music you played at Vancouver Olympics. Is too.. loud."

Matthew blinked at Russia, confused. Ivan sighed again and pressed the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. He gazed at Matthew in earnest.

"Soft music. I want soft music. Matvey knows how to play violin.. gently.. da?"

"Gently?" Matthew tilted his head at Ivan, who nodded.

Gently.

Matthew perched the violin back on his shoulder and leaned his chin against it. He gazed at the man who'd kidnapped him. The handsome face with sad eyes. The huge nation who would inspire fear, but instead had left Canada longing for his presence. The voice, as unexpectedly soft and gentle as his touch..

Matthew lifted the bow and began to play.

He played his feelings. The bow drawn over the strings spoke of his thoughts and of his heart which was lost and torn between his love for his home, and these strange emotions that Russia was stirring in him. His fingers danced over the long notes and his eyes closed as he lost himself to the music.

He played of the mountains and the moon in the sky which were both lonely and only had each other to talk to at night while the world slept. He played of the snow and the cold which took all the colour from the land and left it grey for almost never ending winter.

He played of himself. Forgotten and silent, alone in a crowded, busy world.

He played of Russia, strong but lonely and heartbroken.

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he played on.

The song came to an end when he heard a sob. Matthew opened his eyes and saw Ivan bent forward with his face in his hands.

He set the violin and bow aside and quickly knelt on the floor before him.

"Vanya?" He whispered. He pushed the Russian's hands away and watched in awe as the mighty Russia wept.

"Everyone leaves." Ivan whispered back. "Everyone. And no one wants to come back."

Matthew felt his heart ache. He pressed his forehead against Russia's and placed his hands on either side of the larger mans face.

"I'm here. I'm yours."

Russia gathered Canada up into his lap and held him, crying. Matthew wiped the tears away and kissed Ivan's cheeks, his forehead, and his lips. He stroked back the silver hair and whispered over and over again that he was there. It was alright. He was there.

Gradually.. Russia relaxed.. and his sobs quieted. Matthew fell quiet too, and they both sat in silence, watching as the fire slowly died away.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Russia stood. He held Matthew, who wrapped his arms around Ivan's neck and snuggled in close.

"Matvey will sleep with me tonight."

Canada couldn't help but tense up. He wanted to wiggle away again, but Russia held him more tightly as he walked towards the office door.

"Only sleep, little one. Nothing more."

_Only sleep._

Matthew was still nervous, but he hardly had a choice in the matter as Russia carried him up the stairs. Besides.. sleeping warm with Russia in his bedroom would be much more.. cozy.. than sleeping chained to his own bed by himself.. right?

_Right._


	9. Chapter 9

Ivan didn't lay a hand on him, just as he'd promised.

Russia had carried him into his large bedroom, and Matthew almost forgot his nerves as he was set on his feet. The room was as beautifully decorated as the office. Handsome furniture looked to be a hundred years old or more, and the wood was intricately carved in patterns. Red curtains with gold embroidery framed oversized windows and the four poster bed that looked much too large to be just for one person. Even if that person was as large as Russia.

Matthew gazed around in awe. He felt like he were in a palace rather than in someone's bedroom. His own room back home was nothing compared to this. He lived in a little log cabin far outside of town. Ivan lived like a Tsar. Even America's house was insignificant and dull against the old world beauty that Russia surrounded himself with.

Russia was pulling off his dress shirt, then his undershirt. Matthew shuffled his feet and tried to turn his gaze away when the larger mans pants followed suit and were kicked aside. Ivan's skin looked as white as porcelain against the black material of his underwear. Canada was relieved to see those weren't coming off as well.

Ivan's body was as beautiful as his face. His build was thick and strong, with broad shoulders and long legs. He was muscled, but not to the point where he looked like an oversized bodybuilder. He looked so naturally and wonderfully masculine that Matthew was failing miserably at keeping his eyes away. He drank in every detail.

There were faded scars that crossed Ivan's pale skin, and he longed to touch them, run his fingers over them.. kiss them..

The Russian, seemingly oblivious to the effect his almost naked body was having on the little blond, pulled open a dresser drawer. He glanced back at Matthew.

"You like to sleep in nightgown?"

Matthew felt his cheeks darken. He couldn't help but huff indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"A shirt! I usually sleep with a shirt on."

Russia chuckled and dug through the contents of the drawer. He pulled out a shirt and tossed it to Matthew.

"Thank you.." Canada said softly, then stripped off his own clothing, save for his undershorts. He folded the tunic and pants and set them on a shelf, then pulled the shirt over his head. And then he thought he'd die of shame. The shirt was huge on him! It did seem like a nightgown afterall.

With a sigh he pulled the blue hairband from his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He took off his glasses and set them safely on a shelf. Russia was climbing into the bed. Matthew went to the other side and climbed in too, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"Good night, my little Matvey."

"Night.. Vanya.." Matthew answered.

Russia leaned over to turn off the lamp beside the bed, and all was silent. Matthew lay stiff, his eyes wide open and staring out into the darkness. He fought his body's urge to start trembling. He was in bed with Russia. Russia was less than two feet away from him. At any moment he could roll over, pull up his nightgown - _shirt, dammit!_ - and have his way. But.. Russia didn't move. Not for a long time. And when he did move, it was a simple shift to a more comfortable position.. and he began to snore.

_He's asleep._

Matthew carefully moved to curl up on his side, facing Ivan. Moonlight streamed in through the window and his night eyes were with him now. He could see the Russian sleeping, his face as relaxed and peaceful as Matthew had ever seen it.

_And he snores!_

The Canadian covered his mouth to hold in a delighted giggle. Ivan's snores were soft, like his voice, and oh so adorable.

A heavy weight suddenly jumped up and plopped down on Matthew's side of the bed. It was Koshka. The little blond smiled to see his sleeping companion and wrapped his arms around the cat to pull him under the covers. He snuggled the huge, furry thing close and kissed his soft head. Koshka started his purr motor, almost in sync with Russia's snores.

It was all very soothing.. the soft, warm covers, the moonlight over his pillow, and the sounds of contented sleep. Matthew's eyes drifted shut and he floated off into sleep himself, light as a feather.

When the sky traded the moon for the early morning sun, Matthew felt himself being pulled back from the hazy folds of dreamland. As his conscious mind returned to him, he was vaguely aware that he was pressed against something warm and firm. There was a weight slung across his torso, and his head was resting on something other than a pillow.

Matthew's eyes fluttered open and he took in his surroundings. Somewhere in the night he'd migrated to Russia's side of the bed. Koshka had taken over his pillow as usual, and Matthew had secured himself a spot snuggled up against Ivan. His head was resting on the Russian's chest. There was an arm around him, holding him, and his own arm was slung across the larger mans waist. Their legs were even tangled together.

Matthew sucked in a sharp breath, fully awake. His body quickly betrayed him. He felt himself grow hard. With horror he realized that hardness was pressing against the Russian's thigh.

Russia's arm moved and his hand came to rest on Matthew's belly. The shirt was bunched up around his chest from sleep, leaving him exposed. Fingers began tracing over his navel and up along his ribs. Matthew bit his lips together and closed his eyes, fighting the need to burst out in giggles. It tickled, but he didn't want to make any noise that might wake Ivan.

Those fingers continued upwards to his collarbone and neck. They touched the metal collar, then traced along his shoulders, and back down again. They stopped at a nipple and drew circles around it. Matthew sucked in another breath and did his best not to arch his back into the touch. This didn't tickle.. this felt good. His skin was heating beneath the light touch and he felt himself getting uncomfortably aroused. It took every last once of willpower he had not to rub against Ivan's thigh for the friction.

When those fingers pinched his nipple and rolled the little pebble of flesh between them it was his undoing. He let out a gaspy moan and shivered from the touch. He heard a chuckle and looked up to see the Russian had been awake the entire time.

"My pretty little Matvey." Ivan said, pushing Canada down against the mattress and leaning over him.

"Va.. Vanya-! N-n.. no-ahhh.."

The little blond moaned again when Ivan lowered his mouth to his chest, taking that same nipple between his lips. He licked at it and nibbled, then kissed his way to the other one, giving it the same treatment.

Now Matthew arched his back, his head thrown back against the pillows and his mouth open in a series of moans and gasps. He buried his fingers in Ivan's hair, keeping the mans head in place, only allowing him to go back and forth between the two overly sensitive buds on his chest.

Ivan's hand trailed down Matthew's stomach, his fingers teasing up gooseflesh as they went. The palm spread out flat against the little blonds flesh and Matthew couldn't keep his hips from rocking upwards, seeking the contact he knew was coming. Russia's hand closed over his hardness, squeezing it gently beneath the material of his underwear.

Matthew jolted and cried out. He quickly squirmed away from Ivan and retreated to his own side of the bed, pulling the covers around himself as he did so.

His eyes were wide with nervous tension as he stared at Ivan, who gazed back at him with surprise.. and then disappointment.. and hurt.

A brief moment of silence passed, and then an all too familiar smile returned to Ivan's face.

_But his eyes.._

They were so full of sadness. The same expression Matthew could remember seeing during world meetings. The smile that Russia wore for a world that didn't like him. A world that didn't want to be around him. The smile that Matthew knew was false.

_I rejected him.._

He'd acted as tho he'd been disgusted by Russia's touch. But.. he wasn't! He was just.. he'd.. he'd never done these things before.

"Va.. Vanya.. I'm.."

He was..

A virgin.

A cellphone rang somewhere.

Russia pushed the blankets away and went to find where he'd tossed his pants the night before. He fished his cellphone from a pocket and answered the line. He spoke in Russian and his voice deepened in an authoritative tone. Matthew could only understand a few words here and there.

He sat quietly, idly picking at threads on the blanket as Russia conversed with whoever was on the other end of the line. Judging by the angry sounding words being spoken Matthew guessed it was Russia's boss.

Ivan hit the 'end' button on his phone and threw it across the room, spitting out some Russian curse word. Matthew jumped and watched as he tore open dresser drawers and pulled out fresh clothing. He thought the material might tear from the way Ivan was roughly pulling an undershirt over his head, then pulled on fresh underwear and a pair of pants.

Canada wondered if now was a good time to try sneaking out of the room.. but all he could do was cowar on the bed, frightened that Russia might turn his temper on him.

Russia stalked to a wardrobe and yanked open the door to look for a fresh jacket to wear.. when he seemed to remember the little blond sitting in his bed.

He looked at Matthew, who looked back with wide, nervous purple eyes.

"Matvey.." Russia took a deep breath and calmed down a bit. He gave Matthew another smile, but it had an apology in it this time. "I have to go."

"All day again?" Matthew pouted. He found enough nerve to climb out of the bed and went to where Russia stood. Ivan hesitated for a moment, then pulled Canada into a hug. He buried his nose into the blond hair and sighed.

"Da. There is trouble."

"Vanya.. I'm.." _Sorry. I'm sorry. Please touch me again. I promise I'll let you this time._

Matthew couldn't say those things.

He hid his face in Ivan's chest instead.

The Russian kissed the top of his head.

"I will take you out tonight."

"Really?" Canada gazed up at Russia, excitement crossing his features.

"Da."

"Where?"

"Is surprise."

"Tell me!"

"Patience, little one."

Matthew huffed, then Ivan tilted his face up with a finger beneath his chin and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Be good, Matvey."

And then he was gone. Matthew was left to himself in Russia's bedroom, with Koshka still snoozing on his pillow.

He spent the day wandering around after Alina as she did her chores, same as the day before. This time she told him about herself, and her life before she came to work in Russia's house.

"I am from small town called Vyazniki. Is far away from Moscow, but near enough that I can take train at New Years to see family."

She was folding freshly laundered clothes, and Matthew was helping her by matching socks.

"Do you have a big family?" He asked, and she smiled, nodding.

"Da, very big. Many aunts, uncles, two sisters and a brother. My mamka and papka, and of course Babushka. I miss them very much."

"When did you meet Russia?" He was missing a sock. Even in Russia, it seemed, there was always a missing sock.

"I wrote him letter. I say 'Father Russia, my family is poor. I am strong young woman. I want to come work in your house.'"

"And he wrote back?"

"Da. He send train ticket and ask me to come as soon as possible."

Matthew smiled. He felt a warmth spreading in his heart. So Ivan had taken this girl in and paid her enough money to send back home to her family. How many other nations knew how kind Russia could be to his own people? Certainly not his brother. America thought Russia was the devil incarnate. England did too.

"I have been here for two years. I love Russia so much. He is so.. wonderful. "

Alina's eyes lost their focus and her hands stilled in their job of folding a pair of pants. A familiar expression touched her pretty features. One that Matthew knew all too well. Sorrow.

"But he is sad.. very sad. He is lonely."

Matthew thought of the hurt he'd caused Russia earlier that morning. He felt a pang of guilt aching through his chest.

"But now Matvey is here."

Aline's face lit with a happy smile and she took Matthew's hands between hers.

"Russia talked about you coming to stay for long time, and now you're here. He is happy with you."

_Er.. does she know he kidnapped me? _

Matthew wondered if it would matter even if she did. Her loyalty and love for Russia was genuine, and he couldn't help but smile with her. She said that Russia was happy because of him. No one had ever been happy because of him, other than his own people. No one had ever taken such special interest in him before. But Russia was interested. A little more than interested.. and Matthew still wasn't sure why.

Russia came home earlier that evening than he had the day previously. He dressed Matthew warmly in a jacket, cloak and mitts, then took his hand and led him out the front door and into the Russian outside world.

There was a car waiting for them. A long, black car that reminded Matthew of the same sort that America's presidents road around in. The driver opened the door for them, and Matthew climbed into the back. Russia climbed in after him, and the door was closed behind them.

Canada pressed his face to the window to watch as they began their journey to.. wherever they were going.

Moscow was everything Matthew had never heard of or even thought about. He hated to admit it, but he'd never visited the grand city before. He'd learned alot about it, and about Russia because of his foreign relations with the nation, but he'd kept his distance. His boss never asked him to visit Russia personally - they always sent a Canadian diplomat - and he'd never had any interest in going. Now he was sorry he'd missed out.

What a splendor it would have been to watch this magnificent city grow through the decades.. tho Canada was much too young to have seen all of it's history.

Their car passed modern buildings that stood shoulder to shoulder with ancient monasteries. Matthew had never seen anything like it. The onion domes of the old churches caught the light of the setting sun, and he stared wide-eyed as they passed.

He was pleasantly surprised to see how many trees there were. They were bare of leaves due to it being in the middle of winter, but he could only imagine how green and beautiful Moscow must be in the summer.

Tho night was falling fast, and it was bitter cold outside, there were people everywhere. Normal, every day Russians, going to and fro, out for the night or heading home after a long day of work.

Their car drove on, twisting and turning through the city streets.

Finally they came to their destination.. a large brick building that Canada immediately recognized to be an..

"Arena!"

He turned excited eyes to Ivan, who'd been sitting quietly next to him for their entire trip, allowing the little blond to drink in the sights of his city.

"Da, my little Matvey. You are pleased?"

"Yes!"

When the car stopped Matthew didn't wait for the driver to open their door. He bounced out and hopped from foot to foot impatiently as Ivan followed him. Russia gave instructions to their driver, who bowed and got back into the car to go and park.

He grabbed Russia's arm and tugged him along, wanting more than anything to put on a pair of skates and get onto the ice. Maybe they'd play a little hockey!

Ivan chuckled and allowed himself to be led into the arena. Once inside, he directed Matthew to a locker room where he took a pair of skates in Canada's size and handed them to him. He sat down on a bench to take off his boots and put his own skates on. Before he even had his second boot off the blond was already ready to go.

"Hurry, hurry!"

Then Matthew was out on the ice.

Total freedom.

Canada was in another world when he was on ice.

He'd thrown off his cloak and jacket and left them behind in the locker room. He was flying as soon as his skates touched the rink. He shot across the length of it like a bullet, fast as any speed skater in a race. His hair flew out behind him and he drew in as deep a breath as he could, savouring every second. This wasn't as nice as skating outside on the Rideau Canal at home, but it was still wonderful.

Blissfully wonderful.

He'd done a full ten laps around the rink before he noticed he was alone.

Matthew skidded to a stop and glanced around the empty arena.

_Where is Russia? Did he leave me?_

The Canadian was about to step off the ice to go check the locker room when music started over the loud speaker.

Russia stepped onto the ice a few moments later. He too had shed his jacket, leaving him free to move around the ice without restraint. Matthew skated off to the side as he watched Ivan warm up.

The larger nation was unthinkably tall on his skates and was very intimidating. Matthew knew because he'd faced off against Russia in hockey games in the past.. but Ivan hadn't skated like this then. Graceful and smooth, his arms outstretched and his long legs moving in time with the beautiful music filling the arena.

Matthew stared in awe. He slipped and almost fell, unable to pay attention to his balance as he watched Russia. He moved to the side of the rink and pulled himself up to sit on the wall. Ivan picked up speed and Matthew gasped as he jumped and did a triple axel.. right in front of him.

Russia arched his back and went into a spin, stretching his leg out behind him, then pulling it in, spinning so fast that Matthew had no idea how he didn't end up dizzy.

The song that played over the speaker ended, and a new melody began to play. Russia skated to where the little blond sat.

"That was.. amazing!" Canada said, his eyes still full of awe.

Ivan smiled and held out his hand.

"Is nothing. Come."

Matthew quickly shook his head.

"No way, I can't skate like that. I just play hockey."

Russia took his hand anyway, and pulled Matthew from the wall. He skated backwards, leading Canada out onto the ice.

"Noooo.. Vanya, I'll just look silly and fall!"

Russia ignored his pleas and held Matthew's hands, simply leading as they skated around the rink. Gradually the little Canadian got used to moving on the ice with a partner, and he tried to match Ivan's graceful movements. When the Russian turned him into a slow, easy spin he closed his eyes and tripped and fell backward... but was caught before he hit the ice. Ivan chuckled and straightened him up, and Matthew tried again.

The music played on.

He was starting to get good at it. He skated around in sync with Russia. He lifted his arms and began to feel the music dictating how they danced together on the ice. It was nothing like playing hockey.. but Matthew found he was really starting to enjoy it.

That was.. until Ivan grabbed him around the middle and tried lifting him.

"Wait no!" He yelped out a laugh and jerked in Ivan's arms. Russia tripped and fell back with Matthew crashing down on top of him.

They slid to a stop and Canada winced at how his wrist had hit the ice and Ivan's knee had caught him in the thigh. He pushed himself to his knees and felt guilty for ruining their dance.

"I'm sorry, Vanya! I'm.. ticklish."

Ivan sat up. Matthew stared as a strange expression crossed the larger mans face.. and then he burst out laughing. Canada blinked at him, then smiled and started to laugh too. After a moment they picked themselves up off the ice and began the dance again.

Eventually Ivan did get him to the point where he could be lifted without laughing and squirming. He was afraid, but Russia was strong and held him carefully in the air as he skated around the rink.

He'd never had so much fun on the ice in his life.

When the music finally stopped.. it was time to leave.

In the locker room Matthew pulled his skates off sadly. He put his boots back on and waited for Russia to do the same.

"Thank you.. for tonight." He said softly, and Russia tilted his chin up. He gazed up into the Ivan's eyes and felt disappointed to see the sadness was still there.

He took Russia's hand in both of his own and placed a kiss on the inside of his wrist. Then he raised himself to his toes and pulled the Russian down and met his lips. He sucked Ivan's bottom lip into his mouth, then nibbled it. He grasped the silver hair and moaned when Ivan's arms were around him, pulling him tight against his body. Russia backed them up against a wall of lockers, and Matthew lifted his leg, wrapping it around Ivan's hip. He pushed his growing hardness up against the larger nation, drawing out a gasp from the mans lips.

Ivan suddenly stopped and backed away. He looked at Matthew suspiciously.

"What does little Matvey want?" He asked.

"...You." Matthew answered, his cheeks flushed with colour.

"You push me away."

"No.. I wont. I.. I only did before because.. I'm.. I've never done this before."

Now the Russian looked surprised.

"Never? Not with France? Not with America?"

Matthew shook his head, blushing furiously. He lowered his gaze, feeling horribly embarrassed.

"Not with anyone?"

Canada lowered his head further, his hair hiding his face.

"You'll.. be my first."

Silence filled the locker room. Matthew was afraid for a moment that Ivan would start laughing at him.

He gasped when he was pushed back against the lockers and was crushed into such a forceful, dominating kiss he thought he might die.

He was lifted and he wrapped both his legs around Russia's hips. He moaned out a gasp when Ivan ground his pelvis against him. He felt the larger nations erection through his pants, thrusting up against his bottom. He fisted Ivan's jacket, trying to push it from his shoulders. He wanted skin. Bare skin. He wanted Russia naked. Now. He wanted that god-like, alabaster body covering him, thrusting into him, taking him to that place he'd never been before.

Ivan broke the heated kiss. Canada whined and tried to pull him back, searching out his lips.. but he was carefully set back on his feet.

The Russian was panting. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes shone as he gazed at Matthew. The little Canadian reached out for him, but Ivan held him at arms length.

"Not here." He shook his head. "I will not take my little Matvey here. Not in locker room."

Canada frowned, feeling pained. He was so hard it hurt.. but he had to admit to himself that having sex for the first time in a stinky arena locker room would not be nice. Not when there was a huge bed and the rest of the night waiting for them at home.

_Home.._

Russia's house was home now. Wasn't it?

Ivan took his hand and they walked out of the locker room together, then towards the exit. Their car was waiting outside for them. The driver opened the door and they climbed in. Once they were moving, Russia pulled Canada into his lap. They shared a sweet, searching, longing kiss that lasted the entire trip home.

_Home._

_Russia is home._


	10. Chapter 10

Ivan carried him over the threshold of the bedroom.

He set Matthew down on the large bed, then quickly shooed Koshka from the room and shut the door. Then he sat down next to Canada, who gazed up at him with a naive, childlike expression of nervousness.

Ivan brushed a few stray strands of golden blond hair back from Matthew's face. Canada took Russia's hand and rubbed his cheek against the palm, closing his eyes. He reached to wrap his arms around Ivan. He was pulled into the larger mans lap and he buried his face into Russia's neck.

"Don't be scared, my little Matvey." Ivan whispered into his ear, rubbing gentle circles against Matthew's back. The little blond couldn't help but tremble. In the locker room of the arena he'd been so ready for Russia to take him, but now here in Russia's house.. in his bedroom.. Matthew found himself full of anxious fear.

"Will it hurt?" He asked, clutching at Russia's shirt.

Ivan pushed him back only far enough to look him straight in the eyes.

"Yes. But I will be as gentle as I can."

Matthew held Russia's gaze, swallowed, then nodded.

Ivan leaned forward and kissed him.

He loved the way the Russian kissed. Sweet and light, like honey.. but when Matthew would submit and open his mouth, Ivan would kiss deep and hot, like vodka.

Russia lay him down, his hand behind Canada's head, never breaking their kiss. He eased himself between Matthew's legs and settled, resting most of his weight on his elbows.

Ivan was taking it slow. He simply kissed Matthew and strung fingers through his hair, allowing the little blond to grow accustomed to the position.

Canada made soft sighs of pleasure through the kisses. The feeling of the larger man laying over him was causing his arousal to grow again, and he spread slightly and bent one knee up so that Russia was settled more firmly between his legs. In response, Ivan pushed down against him. Matthew's breath hitched in his throat when he felt the Russian's hard length, and he rocked his hips, shivering from the friction.

Ivan broke their kiss and leaned down further, capturing Matthew's delicate loeb between his teeth. Canada leaned his head back, exposing his neck and the Russian took quick advantage, biting down only hard enough to make the blond squeak. He kissed the little pain away, then began to whisper into Matthew's ear.

"You are so beautiful, my little Matvey. I've wanted you for such long time."

A large hand slipped beneath his shirt. Fingers found a pert little nipple and pinched.

Matthew moaned and arched his back into the touch. Russia bit into his neck again, then sucked at the sweet skin.

"So soft.. so pretty.."

Canada was beginning to feel so hot he thought he might catch fire. Tiny droplets of sweat beaded on his forehead. He pulled on Ivan's shirt, wanting it to come off. Now.

Russia pushed himself up long enough to strip the offending article of clothing away. To make it fair, he tugged Matthew out of his shirt as well, then lay back down. He grasped Canada's hands and pulled them over his head, pinning them down against the bed. Matthew's chest was vulnerable and open and his nipples were pebble hard when Ivan attacked them with his mouth.

"V-Vanya..!"

Russia swirled his tongue around one little pink bud, then the other. It sent a rush of sensation through Matthew's body. He squirmed and twisted because it was almost too much. But then Ivan showed him mercy and trailed hot, wet kisses down his belly instead.. and lower.

When he reached waistline of Canada's pants, Ivan released his hands. Matthew buried his fingers into Ivan's mop of silver hair and pushed his head lower.

Russia kissed the straining hardness beneath the material. Matthew groaned and thrust his hips up. Using his chance, Ivan pulled Matthew's pants down, freeing his erection. Without waiting for the little blond to realize what happened, Ivan took the head into his mouth and sucked.

Matthew's cry of surprise quickly dissolved into a guttural moan. Russia licked the bundle of sensitive nerves at the tip, then swallowed him in again. His head bobbed, and Canada instinctively thrust upwards into the warm, welcoming mouth. His inexperience was catapulting him towards an edge, and he couldn't stop himself from going over.

"...W-wait.. I'm.. I'm gonna-!"

He tensed and shook as he came, his head thrown back against the pillows and his eyes clenched shut tight. Russia drank him down, holding his spasming hips in place.

When the waves of pleasure subsided, Matthew sank and relaxed against the bed. His mind was blank white, free of all thought. He didn't register the sounds and movements Russia was making now that he was in such a dazed state.

Ivan freed himself of his pants and leaned over to take a little bottle from the nightstand beside the bed and uncapped it. Matthew's legs were easily lifted and parted. Even the slick, cool feeling of liquid being poured between his cheeks didn't rouse him.

When a finger pushed inside his entrance.. that was when he came to himself and gasped.

Russia was leaning over him, gazing at him with intensity. Matthew tried to squirm away from the finger.

"Easy, little one." Ivan said, holding him down. "Relax. If you relax it will go easier."

A second finger pushed inside. Matthew whined in protest, his hands fisting against the blankets. It didn't quite hurt.. it just felt strange. But when he looked past Ivan's violet eyes, down his body, and saw what was about to be pushed inside of him..

"It wont fit!" He gasped. Russia was huge. How was he ever going to walk after this?

The fingers hooked inside him and touched against something that sparked lights in his vision. It was unreal, like the orgasm he'd just had moments ago but much stronger.

"Ah!"

Russia pulled his fingers out, then pushed them back inside. The motion was repeated until Matthew was rocking with his hand, his thighs trembling. He lowered his lips to Canada's sensitive nipples again, nipping and licking.

Matthew felt his erection coming back. He grasped at Russia's shoulders, pulling him up. Ivan met him in a kiss that seared, tongues clashing.

"I.. I want.." Matthew whimpered around Ivan's lips. "..please!"

Russia obeyed.

He pulled the blond's legs around his hips. He brushed the head of his length against Matthew's entrance. Then he was pushing, the slippery lube allowing him to ease inside.

Tears gathered at the edge of Canada's eyes. Ivan pushed until he was fully seated, then rested his forehead against Matthew's. Matthew could feel the larger man taking deep breaths, and knew he was willing himself to stay still.. to give him time to adjust.

But he was too full! He felt as tho he'd been split in half. His tears slipped from his cheeks and dripped down his cheeks, wetting his hair.

"It hurts.."

"I'm sorry." Ivan whispered, kissing his damp cheeks.

Matthew could feel the Russian's length throbbing inside him. He winced when the larger man moved a tiny bit.

"I'm deep inside you," Ivan spoke softly into his ear, "You are so tight.. so hot.."

The Russian moved again, pushing against the little blond beneath him. Matthew moaned. His face was flushed with heat.

"My little Matvey.. you are mine. You belong to me."

Canada didn't protest when Ivan pulled out slightly and thrust back in. It still hurt, but the Russian's words were distracting.. and comforting. He felt as if all of his nerves were made of electricity.

"My Matvey.."

Matthew moaned when Russia began rocking into him firmly, a rhythm he tried to meet by raising his hips.

"All mine.."

Ivan's back was slick with sweat when Matthew clawed his fingers and dug in. The larger man hissed when nails raked over his skin, and his response was to thrust harder, deeper.. and Canada cried out for more.

"Vanya!" Matthew moaned, urging Russia on by wrapping legs around the nations pistoning hips. He was close again, so close..

Ivan's hips bucked and he groaned, pounding as deeply inside the little blond as he could. His body tensed and jerked, and Matthew felt warmth flooding inside him. It was enough to push him over the edge again, and he came for the second time, shaking and spasming around Russia who was still buried inside him.

Ivan collapsed onto him, panting and spent.

Matthew's legs unwound themselves from his hips. They felt like jelly, and it was as tho he were melting into the blankets beneath him, warm and protected with Ivan laying overtop of him. He brushed his fingers through Russia's silver hair, petting back the strands that were soaked with sweat.

"My Vanya." He whispered.

Russia came to life again, wrapping arms around him, holding him close and kissing his forehead.

"Yes." He answered. "Yours."

Ivan had his own personal bathroom connected to his bedroom, and once they had recovered enough to move, they'd headed there to wash away the stickiness and sweat. Afterwards Matthew pulled on another of Russia's shirts for sleeping in while Russia himself stayed nude. Canada completely did not mind.

The blond was brushing out his hair when Ivan produced the key to the metal collar around his neck. He stared at the larger man in shock when the clasp was unlocked and the collar was taken away. His hand went to his bare throat. His neck felt so light without the weight around it, and his mouth fell open.. but he found he lacked a single thing to say.

_Is he setting me free?_

He wasn't sure what to think. But his heart apparently knew what to feel.

His eyes welled with tears. Not happy tears.

Sorrow.

_I'm not his pet anymore?_

"Don't cry, little one." Ivan smiled down at him, brushing away the tears with his thumbs. The smile was a real. Matthew knew because it touched his violet eyes.

Russia took a tiny box from a drawer and held it out for the blond to take. Canada opened it and stared.

Inside was a silver, delicate snowflake necklace. The snowflake was intricate, and decorated with tiny blue topaz stones and diamonds.

It was..

"Beautiful.." he said, his voice filled with awe.

Russia took the box and carefully removed the necklace. Matthew lifted his hair so Ivan could place it around his neck and fasten it. He cupped the little snowflake in his hand, gazing down at it, fascinated by the way it glittered in the light.

Russia lifted his chin with a finger and kissed him gently. Then he took Canada's hand and led him to the bed where they lay and hid beneath the covers. He snuggled into Russia's arms and fell into a deep, contented sleep. His dreams took him to a place where he was not a soverign nation..

He was one with Russia.


	11. Chapter 11

Matthew lost all sense of time.

There were no meetings for him, no phone calls from his boss demanding that he come to parliament to mediate between provinces. There were no arrangements to go to other nations to meet and discuss politics and trade deals. There was no backlash from a people who were unhappy with healthcare or the fall of the Loonie against the Dollar. There was nothing but the passing of time which Matthew forgot how to measure.

His days were filled with Russia.

He spent most days by Ivan's side in the office. He curled up on the window seat behind him reading a book, or sitting on the floor by his feet with his head resting in Russia's lap. He slept in his bed at night, and rose when Ivan woke up in the morning. He played the violin whenever he was asked, and was delighted to learn that the larger nation could play the cello that sat in the corner. Alina loved to come and listen to their duets.

His bond with Alina grew stronger. He spent the days that Russia was gone with her, helping her with her chores, and learning to speak in Russian. He was not yet fluent, but he could understand almost everything that was said to him, and answer in short sentences.

He carried Koshka around the house with him wherever he went. The fluffy cat was pliant and happy to receive all the attention. Whenever he wasn't in Matthew's arms, he followed the blond from room to room and sat nearby.

Tho Matthew remembered who he was as a nation, he almost forgot that his name was Matthew.

_I'm Matvey, _he would think whenever he looked in the mirror. _Matvey, who lives in Russia with Vanya._

He quite nearly lost all sense of who he'd been before.

He was demanding.

When Russia was busy with paperwork, he would plop himself down into the larger nations lap and insist on kissing until he was pushed down face first onto the desk. His pants pulled away, he would raise his hips and moan out his pleasure as he was penetrated. He took great pride in making a mess of Russia's work, papers strewn haphazzardly about as Ivan pounded into him from behind.

He would act huffy and upset whenever Russia announced he had to leave for the day. When Ivan returned home, there was always a gift for him.. flowers, chocolate, even an imported bottle of maple syrup. By the time Ivan carried him to the bed at night and made love to him, all was forgiven.

Russia indulged his every whim, taking him back to the arena whenever he wanted to skate. Taking him out to see more of the city, and even deep into the countryside to go for long, cold walks through the snow. There were hockey games, and visits to museums. There were snowball fights, music and sweet foods.

Matthew felt alive. He felt wanted, and needed. He felt..

He felt happy.

There was no more loneliness. Just as Russia had promised.

Winter slowly slipped away into Spring. The snow was melting, and the days were warming.. almost enough that you could go outside with just a light sweater instead of a heavy winter jacket. The trees were beginning to bud. The grass was coming alive again after it's long winter's rest.

Matthew couldn't wait to see all the flowers that would grow in Russia's garden.

"It is beautiful." Alina said one day while helping the blond into a pretty red folk dress. "I like daffodils best. Because they say 'it is warm' before any other flower."

Matthew poked his head through the neckhole, slipped his arms into the billowy white sleeves and pulled the material into place around his body.

"Are there lilac bushes?" He asked, hopeful. The little purple flowers that appeared for only a few weeks in the beginning of Spring were his favourite.

"Of course there are! Russia's garden is filled with many lilacs!"

Alina smiled and smoothed out some of the wrinkles from Matthew's dress. It had been specially made just for him, and all along it's skirt were little embroidered maple leaves in a darker shade of red than the dress itself.

It was time for the folk festival called Maslenitsa, and Alina had asked for the day off to go home to her village and celebrate with her family. When she'd told Matthew about the festival, also known as Pancake Week, the little blond begged Russia to go too. And so he was given a traditional dress to wear.. 'to blend in', Russia had said.

Matthew didn't mind. He quite liked his dress, and the pretty headpeice that went with it. It matched the outfit and was nestled on his head like a tiara. Alina called it a 'kokoshnik', and it was beautifully beaded and tied behind his with a pretty ribbon.

Alina wore a folk dress which was similar to Canada's, and also very pretty. It was blue, and decorated with Spring flowers. Her kokoshnik had been in her family for generations, she'd told him, and she wore it proudly atop her head.

When they were dressed and ready, they descended the stairs to where Ivan was waiting for them.

"Lovely lady." Russia took Alina's hand and kissed the back of it. She giggled, blushing. Then Ivan looked to Matthew. Matthew twirled on the spot, his skirt billowing out around him. He laughed, feeling a little silly, but Russia seemed to approve by the way he took the blond's hand and pulled him into a kiss.

"My beautiful Matvey." He said softly. Canada blushed, then stepped back so he could admire Ivan.

"Look at you! Wow."

Russia had on a red tunic with a black, decorative sash tied around his waist. The sleeves and hems of the tunic were stitched carefully with colourful shapes and decoration in golds and dark blues.

His pants were black and tucked into black leather boots. On his head sat a little black hat with a bright red flower on the side.

"You look amazing. Just.. wow." He glanced at Alina, who nodded her head quickly. She was admiring Russia too.

Ivan cleared his throat and turned away before either of them could see him blushing. He opened the door and bowed to them.

"My ladies, we should go."

Arm in arm, Matthew and Alina exited the house with Russia following after them.

They were driven to the train station, where they caught a train going eastwards. The trip to Alina's village would take a couple hours, but Matthew didn't mind at all. He loved trains. He would lose himself in thought as the world rolled by. He found it peaceful, quiet and comforting.. much less frightening than flying.

Ivan and Alina chatted quietly with each other, while Matthew gazed silently out the window as the Russian countryside unfolded before his eyes. It was beautiful and vast and as endless as his own land. Even more so.

He was distracted from the view only when Russia would take his hand and squeeze. A gentle reminder that the larger nation was there with him.. and that he cared.

They arrived in Vyazniki, and Matthew took Russia's arm as they exited the train. The air was colder here than in Moscow.. there were still snowbanks piled up in places.. but the breeze was fresh and smelled sweet.

He could smell Russian pancakes! And honey, and all kinds of other foods. He could also hear music and singing. Other people were exiting the train along with them, and the excitement in the air quickly grew.

"Vyazniki is old village," Alina smiled, taking Ivan's other arm when it was offered to her. They walked towards a horse drawn carriage that was waiting to take visitors to the festival. "There are cars here, but for today everyone will use horses."

Matthew was delighted.

Alina's village was little more than a nest of small houses and a few stores. Most people here made their living by farming or working in mines up north, Alina told him. Alot of the younger people had packed up and left for Moscow, like she had. Tho not everyone was as lucky as she, to go and work for Russia himself.

People and carriages were everywhere, all heading towards the centre of the village where the festival was being held. The singing and music grew louder the closer they got. Early Spring flowers decorated benches and lamp posts everywhere they looked. There were booths selling clothes, foods and other goods. There were children with brightly coloured balloons running and laughing with their mothers or fathers chasing after them, calling to slow down and come back.

Their carriage stopped at a corner and Ivan stepped down first, then held out his hand to assist Alina and Matthew. It was then that people began to notice..

"Russia.."

"He's here?"

"He's here in our village! It's Russia himself!"

Matthew heard and understood the whispers coming from the crowds of people who were beginning to gather and stare at them. He glanced at Alina, his eyes full of worry. Would there be trouble?

Alina took his hand and winked at him. Matthew chewed his bottom lip and watched.

"My children," Ivan bowed with a smile on his face, then spoke loudly in Russian so all could hear him, "Would you allow me to spend the day with you?"

Smiles broke out on the faces of all the people. They clapped and called out "of course, we would be honoured!", then gathered in close. Ivan greeted the men with handshakes, and kissed the backs of the ladies hands. They would curtsy or bow to him, then rush off giggling like little schoolgirls.

A little girl tugged at Ivan's pants, and he knelt down beside her. She smiled at him shyly, then handed him a little white flower. He took off his hat and tucked the flower alongside the one that was already there. He put the hat back on, then picked the little girl up and set her on his shoulders. He headed into the thick of the festival, with all the people following at his heels. Alina and Matthew followed too, hand in hand.

Suddenly, Alina gave a happy cry and ran off, straight into the arms of who could only be her mother. Next, she was gathered up in a hug by a burly man Matthew assumed was her father. An older woman with a red headscarf tied around her hair was next.

_That must be babushka. _

He smiled as he watched the family reunion, then blinked when Alina came to grab his hand, pulling him over.

"This is... Madalina. She is my friend."

Matthew swallowed and nodded to Alina's family as they said hello to him. Tho he knew enough Russia now to speak to them, he was afraid to say anything. He knew his voice was very soft and light, but he didn't want to take any chances on them finding out he wasn't really a girl. Or a human, for that matter.

"This is mamka, and papka, and this is babushka." Alina introduced them. They smiled kindly at him, but the old woman eyed him closely. He took his hand and patted the back of it, then wandered off muttering something to herself.

"She say you are prettier than Lithuania." Alina whispered, and Matthew blinked.

_Does she know?_

A man almost as tall as Russia walked towards them and Alina gave a happy laugh as she hurried to hug him. He was handsome with dark brown hair and blue eyes.

"Sergey!"

"Alina! It is good to see you, sestrenka. How have you been?"

Matthew's eyes and ears wandered as Alina visited with her family. He listened to the happy chattering of the people, and the giggles of the children as they ran around. He couldn't see Ivan anymore.

_He must have gotten swamped with greeting his people.._

"And who is this pretty girl?"

Matthew's attention came back when Sergey took his hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it.

"You will dance with me later, yes?"

Matthew blushed, biting back the urge to speak. An arm suddenly wrapped around his shoulders and he was pulled back from Sergey's attentions. Russia, tall and possessive, stared down Sergey who quickly backed away.

"Father Russia!" Alina's mother exclaimed. She bowed to Ivan, along with Alina's father.

They began thanking Ivan for taking such good care of their little girl. They told him they wouldn't eat so well at night without him, and begged to know if there was anything they could do in return for his kindness. Ivan smiled and asked that they join him as he took up the festivities of Maslenitsa. They happily agreed, and the group made their way towards the tent that was serving the pancakes.

After having the best blini with the sweetest honey Matthew had yet tasted, they walked around the village square, watching as the people made merry. There were games of tug-o-war, sacks filled with stuffing to 'fight' with, snowball fights gathered from the remaining piles of snow, and a huge pole that men took turns trying to climb. At the top was tied a yellow flower. Matthew watched with interest as man after man tried climbing to the top to reach it.

"The one who gets the flower and gives to his lady will have successful marriage." Alina told him.

At the very centre of the festival was a large mannequin made of straw. It was dressed in a red and yellow dress, and had blue eyes and red cheeks painted onto it's face.

"That is Lady Maslenitsa," Alina smiled, "Later she will be set on fire."

Matthew's eyes widened in surprise.

"She is Winter. We burn her to say goodbye to cold, then bury her ashes in the ground.. to bring good crops."

The music in the air suddenly changed and grew louder. Cheers rose from the villagers and everyone began to hurry towards the sound. Dancers were starting to gather.

Handsome men and beautiful women all dressed in traditional costume paired up and began to dance, much to the pleasure of all who watched. Sharp whistles rang out from the crowd as they moved, and the women's skirts billowed out as they spun, their bright colours flashing.

Alina's mother clapped, then grabbed for her husbands arm to pull him into the dance with her. One of the male dancers held out his hand to Alina, a huge smile on his face. She accepted his invitation with a giggle and joined him.

Ivan stepped out and took Matthew's hand. Matthew gasped and quickly shook his head, pulling his arm back.

"Oh no.. no no.. I don't know how to dance like that!"

"I have seen Matvey dance before. Come. We have fun."

Ivan held out his hand again, and after a few more moments of hesitation.. Matthew took it.

He felt very awkward at first. Especially next to Russia, who was the best dancer in the crowd. He crouched with his arms crossed and kicked as well as any cossak. Russian dancing depended so much on the strength of ones legs. So many spins and jumps, crouches and kicks.

Eventually he learned the steps, or at least the female parts. He began to smile and laugh as Ivan spun him around, his skirt twirling around his legs. Everyone watching was clapping and whistling and when the song ended Russia picked him up and kissed him. Cheers rose from the crowd.

The rest of the day passed by in a flurry of music, laughter and pancakes. When it was time to say goodbye, each of Alina's family members hugged and kissed him. Except for Sergey. Russia still wouldn't let him near.

Babushka pinched his cheeks and muttered something Matthew couldn't quite make out.

"She say.. take care of our dear Father Russia." Alina giggled, and the little blond blushed.

He fell asleep against Ivan's shoulder almost as soon as they were seated on the train and heading home.

A car was waiting for them in Moscow and drove them back to Russia's house. Alina said goodnight, and Ivan carried a still snoozing Matthew up the stairs to the bedroom. He stayed on his feet long enough to be pulled out of his dress, then went to snuggle under the covers with Koshka.

Russia stepped out of his own clothes, then took his cellphone from it's spot on the nightstand to check for any messages. There was one. He dialed in his password and held it loosely to his ear to listen, yawning widely.

A moment later.. he nearly crushed the phone in his hand.

He threw it to the floor.

"Matvey." He said, his voice low. "Wake up."

"Mmm?" Nothing but a wayward blond curl was poking out from under the blankets.

"Wake. up. now."

It was the tone of Ivan's voice that pulled Matthew from sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, then gazed at Russia who was so visibly angry he was shaking.

"Vanya? What's wrong?"

"Tomorrow. America is coming here tomorrow. To see you."

Canada's heart skipped a beat in his chest.


	12. Chapter 12

"America is.. coming?"

Matthew's eyes were glazed over from sleepiness as he watched Russia pulling his underwear back on.

"Da."

Ivan took a housecoat from the wardrobe and threw it around his shoulders, tying the sash loosely around his waist.

"He's coming.. here?"

"Da!" Russia sent an angry glare towards the blond who still sat in the bed. "Put clothing on. Now."

Matthew gave his head a shake to help himself wake up, then threw back the covers and hurried to find his own underwear. He already had one of Russia's shirts on.

He was herded out the bedroom door. With a hand on his shoulder, he was taken down to the office. The entire house was dark and eerie. All the servants had gone to bed. Ivan turned on the lights in the office and closed the door behind them. He headed for his large desk and Matthew followed.

He wished he'd thought to put on a pair of socks. His feet were chilly, and he shuffled them, gazing down at them as Russia opened one of the drawers and pulled something out, laying it on the desk.

_America is coming here tomorrow.. To see me. _

Matthew turned the thought over and over in his mind, like a difficult math problem. He couldn't quite grasp what it meant. Perhaps he was just too tired after such a long day, but the news that the American would be there the next day didn't immediately mean anything to Canada other than it made Russia very angry.

_I've never seen him angry.._

Matthew chewed his lip, his eyes still downcast.

_Even in the beginning.. he was never angry. He was a bit scary but... he was always kind._

A familiar sound chimed from Russia's desk. The opening music of a loading Windows operating system. Matthew glanced up and saw that Ivan had opened a laptop and turned it on. A laptop with.. a Canadian flag sticker on it's lid.

"...Wah...?"

Matthew's mind began to churn, and he frowned with the effort of thought. It took a few minutes, but he almost heard the 'click' when his mind suddenly snapped the pieces into place.

That was his laptop. His laptop was sitting on Russia's desk.

Russia was logging in to his laptop.

"You.. that's.."

He stepped closer, the light from the screen reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. He stared as his moose wallpaper and all of his icons loaded on the screen. Once it was ready, Russia clicked into his email.

"How did.. you.."

Another click in his mind. Matthew's pupils dilated with realization.

When he'd arrived in Russia so many months ago he hadn't had time to take his suitcase to a hotel and drop it off. He'd brought it along to where he'd thought the G8 meeting was to take place. In his suitcase were his clothes, his identification, his phone, and his laptop. His personal laptop with all of his personal files, personal work, personal contacts.. it was all tucked away inside the luggage which had been dropped and forgotten when Russia attacked him. He'd never thought about it once when he'd woken up chained to a bed in Russia's house. It had been entirely forgotten.

"That's mine!" He cried, reaching to try and grab it off the desk. Ivan held up a hand to stop him, only long enough to let the email finish loading. Then he stood and pointed to his chair.

"Sit."

Matthew blinked at him, but did as he was told. He sat down and stared at the screen. There were emails.. many emails, most marked as 'read'. Correspondence with his boss, with other nations, and one unread email.

"You.. my.. this.." Matthew looked from the laptop, to Ivan, and back to the laptop again. He was at a loss for words.. except for one more.

"Password..!?"

"It was maple123. Not hard to guess, little one." Russia shrugged. "Now read."

Matthew read.

He scrolled to find email threads that had started or continued only days after he'd been kidnapped. His boss had sent him a message, asking for his report on the G8 summit. And.. 'Canada' had replied in a very business-like manner.. about a meeting he'd never attended. He added at the end that Russia had invited him to stay for awhile, to improve relations and possibly to come to a favourable trade re-negotiation that would benefit both nations. Canada's boss had written back, readily agreeing. Even encouraging it.

There were further emails between himself and his boss over the next few weeks.. talking about how well things were going with Russia. Talking about how much he was enjoying his stay, and talking about different agreements that were being made between himself, Ivan, and Ivan's boss.

The writing was all business. None of his personality ever went into his correspondence with his boss, so Matthew could understand how easy it was for Russia to impersonate him. And if Canada knew his own boss, he knew the man was eager to gain the power and wealth that would come from better trading deals with Russia.

Matthew scrolled and clicked through email after email. There were messages sent from other nations - France, England, Japan - all business. He'd apparently replied to all of them - business and more business - nothing personal. None of them suspected anything was different. None of them realized someone other than Canada was handling Canada's inbox.

But there was one email thread that was different from the rest.

America.

This was the thread that held the unread email.

Matthew swallowed hard and his hand shook as he clicked it. When it opened on the screen, he scrolled all the way to the bottom to read through the entire conversation.

The first email was dated two months after he'd been brought to Ivan's house. Alfred emailed him with a simple "Yo bro! Wazzap?".

Ivan's reply had been an attempt at simple, English slang. "Not much, bro! Jus' chillin with a Molson, watchin the game."

Matthew cringed, thinking of the laugh America had let out when he'd read the email. He never butchered the English language with slang the same way his brother did. But Ivan couldn't have known this.

The email conversation went on..

"LOL, are u for realz? Hahaha, anyway.. u wanna come for a weekend or whatever? We can play a couple games, get shitfaced and stuff."

"No thanks, bro! I got other plans. Please get shitfaced without me. Sorry, eh?"

"Dude, for serious? Ur turning me down? Since when do u turn me down for hockey?"

Matthew knew the invitation had been Alfred's way of saying 'I'm sorry I was pissed at you for winning the gold medal at the Olympics'.. and it was VERY out of place for Matthew to refuse. He was surprised America didn't immediately realize something was wrong. But then.. Alfred wasn't always the brightest Star on the Spangled Banner.

There had been no reply to America after that. Ivan clearly hadn't known what to say.. so he'd hoped the American problem would go away. And it did.. for a few weeks. Then Alfred had emailed again.

"U pissed at me?"

Ivan had waited two days to reply.

"No, I am not upset. I am just busy as of late."

At least he'd dropped the attempt at slang..

America had written back right away, his temper obviously tantruming.

"Fine, whatever. Fuck you."

A few more weeks had passed before another American email had come.

"Mattie, what's up? Ur for sure pissed at me. What's going on?"

Ivan had replied right away. Matthew wondered if he was worried at this point, that the American wasn't giving up so easily. That someone out there was actually attempting to make contact with Canada. Someone remembered him.

"I am not angry with you, America. I promise to you that everything is fine. I have been on an important business trip and it has taken up much of my attention. I am working on economic ties with another nation and it is a very busy time for me. Please accept my apologies, but I will not have time to spend with you for quite awhile."

No more emails.. for two months. And then..

"Mattie, what the fuck? Your boss just told mine that you've been in Russia since the G8? Your economic ties are going on with RUSSIA? What the hell is wrong with you? You've put a hugeass bug up my boss' ass and he's yelling for me to find out what the effin HELL is going on with you! Why didn't you tell me?"

"America - it is not your business what I do and who I do it with. Please leave me alone."

Matthew shook his head. You never tell America to leave you alone. America never left anyone alone.

More emails had been sent over the course of the next couple days from America, demanding details about his doings with Russia. None had been replied to. Finally, it seemed, Alfred was starting to get the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

"Listen Matt.. I'm gonna grab a plane and come see you, ok? I don't like this."

There was a reply this time.

"No. Do not come to see me."

Huge red flag. Alfred knew there was something wrong for sure. This was the last of the emails.. the unread one. It had been sent that morning.

"Kay, well.. I'm makin arrangements and I'll be there as soon as I can. My boss is gonna call Russia's boss to let him know and give him an arrival time. Hang tight, Mattie.. I hope you're ok."

So America's boss had called Russia's boss. And while they'd been out enjoying Maslenitsa, Russia's boss had called and left a message, saying they'd better prepare for a meeting tomorrow. America and his boss would be knocking on their door first thing in the morning.

Matthew flopped back in Ivan's chair, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He stared at the screen and his inbox full of emails sent and received without his knowledge. Russia, who had been standing behind him the entire time, cleared his throat.

"Come sit with me."

Ivan went to sit on one of the loveseats. Matthew rose to follow, feeling dizzy. He felt overloaded.. like way too much information had just been shoved into his head.

He couldn't process all of this. He was afraid his mind would burst if he tried.

He sat next to Russia who pulled him into his lap. His body was on auto-pilot and he curled up into the larger mans embrace, seeking comfort. He tucked his head beneath Russia's chin and closed his eyes. Russia rubbed his back.

Silence filled the office.

He just wanted to fall asleep. He wished he WAS asleep and this was all a bad dream. He would wake up in Ivan's arms and life would continue as it had for the past few months.

"You belong to me, my little Matvey." Russia finally spoke. He pushed the blond back, and Matthew stared into his purple gaze. "Say it."

When Matthew didn't respond right away, Russia gave him a little shake.

"I belong to you, Vanya."

Ivan kissed him.

It was a forceful, angry kiss that left his lips swollen. A large hand fisted in his hair and pulled his head back, causing his mouth to fall open. Russia's tongue swept in, possessive and searching.

Matthew couldn't stop the moan that escaped his throat.

Russia's hands were everywhere, pulling him from his clothes. The housecoat had fallen open and Matthew roamed Ivan's chest with his fingertips, mapping out the scars he'd memorized long ago. There was a hardness growing beneath his bottom, straining for him.

He slipped to the floor between Russia's legs and pulled the thick, heavy erection free of the underwear. There was liquid dripping from the tip and Matthew bent his head to taste it, swirling his tongue around it.

"Yessss.." Ivan hissed as the little blond opened his mouth to take him in. "Matvey.."

Matthew opened his throat and swallowed as much of Ivan's member as he could. When he could go no further he suppressed a gag and came up for air. He kissed the heated skin, pressing his cheek against it, then licked and suckled at the head. He palmed the rest, squeezing the throbbing hard length of it.

The thought that this would soon be inside of him, rocking into him, pounding against him, caused Matthew to shiver in anticipation. He paused long enough to suck on his own two fingers, wetting them. His mouth closed over the tip again, and he reached between his own legs and pushed his fingers into his entrance.

He moaned as he fingered himself, preparing himself for Russia. He coated Russia's length with saliva, then climbed back into his lap.

Ivan grasped his hips as Matthew guided himself down. The tip pushed past his tight entrance and he cried out as this initially painful part.. but it didn't keep him from working his way down until he was fully seated and completely impaled.

He took a deep breath to help himself relax. He'd taken Ivan countless times now, but the man was still huge and it took time to adjust. Russia held still, and distracted him with another kiss. He began whispering into the blond's ear, the way he always did, bringing gooseflesh and shivers.

"My sweet little Matvey," Ivan breathed, "So pretty.. so soft.."

Fingers pinched his nipple and Matthew gasped. He started to rock in Ivan's lap, only a little. He whimpered from the feeling of fullness, of being stretched.

"My Matvey. Only mine."

Russia bit down into the tender flesh of Matthew's neck, bringing out a cry. He kissed and sucked at the spot, until he was sure a bruise was left behind.

"Say it. Tell me."

"Only yours!" Matthew moaned, raising his hips and sitting back down, the length sliding deeply inside him.

Russia wrapped his arms around the blonds waist and began to thrust into him. Matthew whimpered and squirmed, spreading his legs as far as he could so it was easier. He clung to Ivan who worked up a furious pace beneath him, his eyes welling and spilling tears from the pleasure and pain of it.

He came first - he always did. He shook with the force of it, his fingers turning to claws that raked down the Russian's back. He felt Ivan's orgasm building by the way the man's hips began to jerk, losing their rhythm. Ivan pounded into him, then buried himself to the hilt and held the little blond in place as he filled him with sticky warmth.

Matthew collapsed over Ivan, trembling. Ivan was panting, and sank back against the loveseat. Their sweaty, overheated bodies began to cool. Matthew shifted to get more comfortable, then sighed as Ivan's length slid out of him. He felt stickiness dripping from him, trailing down his leg.

When they'd recovered, they snuck back upstairs to Russia's bedroom and washroom where they cleaned up. They crawled into bed together, and like any other night Matthew snuggled into Ivan's arms and settled down for sleep after a goodnights kiss. But..

But.. the little blond found he couldn't sleep. Even with Russia's soothing snores and Koshka's comforting purrs from his pillow.

He lay awake long into the night.


	13. Chapter 13

Morning came and Matthew had not slept.

A few times in the night he'd nearly nodded off, but Ivan's nightmares woke him. The large man was twitching in his sleep and mumbling in Russian. The few words Matthew made sense of were 'please', and 'don't leave'.

He'd kissed Ivan's frowning forehead each time and whispered back in Russian that he was there, it was alright.. and Ivan would settle down again.

When the sun lit the room by peeking in through the windows, Ivan opened his eyes. Matthew thought the man looked as unrested and tired as he felt.

They quickly bathed together, without speaking. Canada was glad, because he wasn't sure what to say.

Russia reached far back into his wardrobe and pulled out a business suit. It was the one Matthew had been wearing the day he'd been kidnapped. It had been washed and pressed.. and apparently had been hanging in Ivan's closet, forgotten, all this time.

Matthew took it and put it on. The material felt stiff and strange to him. And as he gazed into the mirror he thought he looked weird wearing it. Like he should be dressed in a tunic, with detailed embroidery stitched on it's front and sleeves.. not this uncomfortable western-style... thing.

His hair had grown longer. He brushed it out and tied it back with a ribbon. There. He looked presentable enough for a meeting with world leaders. And.. with his brother.

Ivan had dressed in his own business suit, much different from the usual military-style uniforms he would put on to go and meet with his government. He looked just as uncomfortable.

"Will your boss be here as well?" Matthew asked, watching as Russia did up his suit jacket's buttons.

"Da. He needs to be present to approve of whatever decision is made."

Matthew lowered his gaze to the floor.

_Whatever decision is made.. Does that mean Vanya's boss has known all along that I was here?_

Of course he had. Russia's boss had come to the house on occasion to speak with Ivan. He'd seen Matthew. Once he'd even nodded in greeting as Canada had been shoo'd from the room along with Alina.

_Is this a meeting to decide what happens to me? _

Matthew peeked at Ivan through his blond locks. The larger nation was doing his best to tame his silver hair.

_Or is this a meeting where I decide what happens next?_

A knock came at the door. An older servant called in, telling them that America, his boss, and Canada's boss had arrived along with Russia's boss. They were downstairs in the dinning room, waiting.

Ivan called back a 'thank you', then turned to look at Matthew. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Matthew thought he looked nervous.. and stressed.

Ivan opened his eyes.. and his arms. The little blond immediately went to him, burying his face in the larger mans chest and breathing in. He was wrapped in such a tight embrace he thought he heard his ribs cracking.

After a long moment, Russia pushed him out at arms length.

"You are mine, Matvey." He said, his eyes filled with seriousness. He took Canada's chin between his thumb and finger and held his gaze. "Don't forget that."

"I wont." Matthew whispered back.

Ivan pulled him into a gentle kiss, then with his eyes closed again, he just stood still and quiet with his forehead pressed against Canada's.

They couldn't delay any longer. They had to go downstairs.

Matthew felt his heart starting to pound in hs chest as they went to the dinning room. He hooked his finger into the collar of his shirt and tie, pulling on them in an attempt to breathe. He felt as tho he were choking on his own nerves.

Ivan pushed open the dinning room door and then they were all standing, shaking hands, sharing greetings.

Canada's boss grasped his hand tightly and clapped him on the back.

"Good to see you, Canada." He said, then winked before leaning in close to whisper into Matthew's ear. "Don't be too worried about all this. We both know better relations with Russia are good for our country. We'll get it worked out."

Matthew said nothing.

Next he shook the Russian presidents hand, then the American present. Finally.. there was Alfred.

He chewed his lip as he looked into Alfred's eyes and shook his hand. It was all so formal. The American looked like he'd been terribly worried and like he had so much to say.. but he couldn't. Not in front of their leaders.

Ivan was shaking hands too, and when everyone had properly greeted each other, they all sat down for their meeting.

Alina and the other servants were coming and going from the room quiet as mice, serving a rich breakfast. Matthew caught Alina's gaze and she sent him a tiny, encouraging smile.

America's boss began the discussion, getting right to the point. America was worried about national security and interests. They didn't like that Canada was getting so friendly with Russia. They were upset that they hadn't been consulted or even told about this until recently.

Canada's boss countered that to be honest, it wasn't America's business. These were times of peace, and there was no danger in a closer friendship with Russia. They were already close friends with Cuba, whom America did not like, and there was absolutely no harm there whatsoever.

Russia's boss interjected that they had no designs on anything other than shared wealth with Canada. Canada and Russia had alot in common, he said. They held the worlds majority of trees and fresh water. They were both rich in oil and other resources. By working together and combining their natural riches, they could in turn work to benefit the rest of the world.

America's boss worried that with great wealth would come more military power.

Canada's boss reminded them that Canadians were peacekeepers and had little interest in military power.

Russia's boss accused America of being paranoid of losing his superpower hold over the world.

Matthew felt like plugging his ears, closing his eyes and going 'lalalala'. A glance at Alfred and Ivan told him that they felt the same way. Meetings with their bosses were always like this. Talk, accusations, talk, flaunting of wealth, talk, threats of sanctions, talk.

Blah blah blah.

The nations themselves might as well not even be in the room. They were nothing more than things to the leaders.. pawns to be commanded around a global chess board.

Canada's boss was becoming upset. They had stood shoulder to shoulder with America for decades. They were brothers, friends, family.. how could America not trust them to conduct their own business safely?

America's boss countered that Canada was never safe and it was America who looked out for all of North America.

Tempers began to flare.

Matthew wanted to sink beneath the table.

The 'meeting', which was really more of an argument, lasted for hours. Unlike the G8 meetings or world meetings between the nations themselves, it had nothing to do with solving world problems, saving people or helping anyone.. it was entirely focused on national interests, security.. and money.

Alfred, Ivan and Matthew were given little chance to say much of anything. Alfred, being the loudest of the three, tried to say he was worried about his little brother. Ivan said there had been nothing to worry about - Matvey had been happy and well looked after during his stay in Russia. And he didn't want to leave.

Matthew said nothing.

Finally.. it was settled. Canada would continue it's relations with Russia, but the American government would be informed of everything from that point on. Oh, and lumber had to be cheaper, too.

The three national leaders shook each others hands and left the dinning room, leaving America, Russia and Canada to finish working out whatever personal details they had themselves.

Alfred sighed, massaging his temples.

"Russia.. can I have a few minutes alone with Matt?"

Ivan glared at him. He began to shake his head and say that everything should be stated out in the open with the three of them present in the room.. when Canada finally opened his mouth.

"Vanya.." He said softly, placing his hand on Ivan's arm. He looked into the larger mans eyes, his own pleading. "Let me talk to Alfred.. please?"

Ivan fell silent and stared back at Matthew. Emotions flashed over his face.. worry, anger, mistrust, fear.. then finally.. sadness.

He pulled his hand away from Matthew and stood, turning to leave the room without another word.

The little blond felt his heart begin to ache, like it was being slowly pulled apart.

The dinning room was empty, save for himself and his brother.

"Mattie.. holy shit, Mattie.. are you ok?"

Alfred stood and hurried over to where Canada sat. He pulled his brothers chair out from the table and turned it, then bent to one knee. He cupped Matthew's face with his hand and studied him closely.

"I'm ok, Al.." Matthew said softly. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around America's neck. Alfred hugged him back, tightly, and Matthew savoured the moment. He hadn't seen his brother in months. He'd missed him.

Alfred stood, pulling Canada up with him.

"That wasn't you writing those emails, was it?"

The little blond chewed his bottom lip and sighed.

"No."

Alfred's embrace grew stronger.

"Shit.. he's had you all this time? Did he hurt you? When did he get you? Must have been right after the meeting.."

"I wasn't at the meeting, Al."

"Huh?"

Canada wriggled out of America's arms and stepped back. He frowned at his brother, angry and hurt.

"I was never at the meeting. You didn't know I wasn't there.. and neither did anyone else. So does it matter if Russia hurt me? Do you even care?"

Alfred blinked.

"Of course I care! I.. you really weren't at the meeting? I'm.. I'm sorry, Mattie.. I didn't.."

"You didn't notice. I know. It's ok. I'm used to it."

Matthew hugged himself and swallowed back the urge to cry. Alfred reached for him again, and carefully pulled him back into a hug. He kissed the top of the little blond's head, and then Canada couldn't stop his tears. He sniffled and cried onto his brothers shoulder.

"It's ok.. no worries.. we'll take you home and it'll be better, ok?" Alfred was rubbing his back and shoulders. Matthew's jacket and shirt collar had come loose, just a little.

"Hey.. what's this..?" Alfred hooked his finger into Matthew's shirt collar and pulled it down, revealing the deep, purple bruising on his neck. Ivan's mark from the night before. There was also a tiny silver chain. It wasn't like Canada to wear jewellery. He grasped the chain with his fingers and pulled out the little snowflake necklace.

"Don't touch that!"

Matthew jerked away from him. The sudden motion snapped the delicate chain from his neck. The snowflake fell to the floor, bouncing under the table. Matthew cried out his despair and dropped to his knees. He reached for the snowflake, grabbing it and examining it to make sure it was ok. Thankfully only the chain had been broken. The pendant was alright.

He glared up at his brother.

"I'm sorry.. It was an accident! We can fix it.." Alfred began to say, but Matthew shook his head.

"You need to leave, Al. I'm not going back with you."

"What? Mattie, c'mon! Be serious!"

Alfred grasped his brothers arm, but Matthew swatted at his hand. He stood and backed away from America, shaking his head.

"Go home, Alfred. Please.. just go home."

America stepped towards Canada slowly, carefully. His blue eyes were wide, and full of concern.

"You're not talking sense, Matthew.." He reached for Canada again, but the little blond yelled sharply.

"GO HOME!"

Alfred held his hands up in defeat.

"Ok.. ok.. I'll leave. ...Damn."

He gazed at Matthew and shook his head as he headed for the door. He paused before he left.

"Just.. promise you'll call me.. if you're in trouble.. ok? I'll come right back for you."

America sighed, then turned and left the room.

Matthew waited until he knew it was safe, then ran from the dinning room. He didn't stop to say goodbye to his boss or the other leaders. He ran up the stairs and down the hall to the little bedroom he'd first been brought to. The chain was still attached to the headboard and his blue blanket was still there.

He slammed the door shut, then threw himself down on the bed, and buried himself beneath the blanket. Sobs began to wrack his frame. The shock of what Ivan had done, the stress from the meeting, seeing his brother, and his utter confusion over what he should do about it all. It was too much, and he cried until he had no more tears. When the sobbing subsided.. he fell into a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep.

When he woke, the room had darkened. He wasn't sure how many hours had passed, but the sun was going down. Night was coming. He'd slept the entire day.

He rubbed sleep from his eyes and yawned. Then he realized he was not alone in the room. He looked up to see Alina sitting on the side of the bed. She smiled sadly at him.

"Are you alright?"

The little blond sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. He would really rather be alone, but if he had to be in someones company, he was glad it was Alina.

"I've felt better.." He sighed.

She brushed his hair back from his face. He closed his eyes, enjoying her touch. The gentleness of the action reminded him of Ivan. The larger nation had been so careful and kind to him, and so sweet. But..

But.. taking his laptop and.. pretending to be him.. conducting his business.. it was unforgivable. And.. Matthew found.. he couldn't forgive himself either.. because he'd let it happen. He'd allowed himself to stay there, in Russia's house, for so long. He'd ignored the fact that he'd been forcibly kept here, and allowed himself to be caught up in some twisted Russian fairytale where the silly little pet falls hopelessly in love with his master..

Matthew jolted, letting out a little gasp.

_...love..?_

No. He quickly pushed the word away from his mind. He wouldn't think about that. He couldn't think about that.

Alina took his hands.

"Please forgive Russia, Matvey.." She said softly. "He is.. sick.. in his mind."

Matthew looked at her, surprised that she would say such a thing about the nation she loved so much. She shook her head.

"He has done many terrible things. And he has had many terrible things done to him. He is old.. so much older than me, older than Babushka.. even so much older than you. But.. he has mind of child. He is sweet and gentle.. but so angry and sad at same time. He has been alone for so long.."

Her eyes began to well with tears.

"I am too young to know Soviet Union.. it ended before I was born. But Babushka remembers for me. She tell me stories. She was here in Russia's house."

"She was.. here?" Matthew blinked. Alina nodded.

"She worked for Father Russia when she was young, like me. He was kind to her too. She tell me all about him... and about his sisters.. and Baltic nations who lived here with him. He was happy then, she tell me. He had family. He had Lithuania. He loved Lithuania."

Matthew felt his cheeks beginning to flush. He turned his face away. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear about this.

"But then everyone left. Father Russia was sad. He was alone. Babushka cried when she left him too, but she had to come home to village because I was born and Mamka needed help. When I grew up and I wanted to come here, she was so happy."

Matthew remembered the end of the Soviet Union well. He'd been one of the first nations to recognize the independence of each Baltic nation, as well as Ukraine. He, along with America, had worked hard to help lift the Iron Curtain. They'd felt they were setting free an oppressed people from Russia's rule. But.. he'd never stopped to think about Russia the man.. and what it must have been like to lose everyone he'd kept so close to himself for so many years.

"I.. I need to go and talk to him."

Matthew pushed the blanket back and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"No!" Alina grabbed his arm as he stood. Matthew looked at her, confused.

"No, not now, Matvey. Now is not good time. Is better to wait until morning, da?"

"Why? If he's sleeping I'll just wake him up." Matthew tugged his arm free and went to the door.

"He is not sleeping.. he is in office. But please, please Matvey.. listen to me and wait!"

She hurried and blocked the door. Matthew frowned and reached around her, gently moving her away.

"I'm sorry, Alina.. I've waited long enough to talk about this with him. I need to know why he kidnapped me. I get that he's lonely, but I want to know why ME."

He headed down the hall and down the stairs, and Alina was on his feels, grasping for his hand and begging him to stop, not to go in, please don't go in. She was nearly crying in her desperation.

Matthew stopped outside of the office door. He turned and pulled her into a hug. He kissed her cheek and gave her a smile of reassurance.

"It's ok, Alina. I'm not going to make him sad.. I promise. I just.. I need to ask him why."

He left her alone in the hall. He opened the office door and stepped inside.

There were empty vodka bottles strewn about the floor. A couple of them had been smashed and broken glass was littered everywhere.

There was no warm fire in the hearth. The heavy curtains, normally open wide for sunlight to gather during the day, were pulled closed. Papers and books were tossed about. The loveseat was upturned, laying on it's back. The room was dark except for one small lamp that sat on Russia's desk.. and Russia himself sat at the desk, with yet another vodka bottle grasped tightly in his hand.

There was no kind, gentle smile on his face when he looked up to see Matthew standing in his office. His eyes were rimmed with red, and his cheeks were flushed dark.

_He's drunk.._

Matthew watched as Ivan pushed himself to his feet. He wavered, as tho he might lose his balance at any moment.

_He's.. completely trashed.._

"Vanya?"

Russia lifted the bottle and drank back the liquid that remained inside it. Then he tossed the bottle aside. It hit the floor and shattered.

"Vhy you still here?" Ivan's voice was low, slurred, and heavily accented. "You vant go back to home. You leave me."

"I didn't leave you.." Matthew felt nervousness creeping up his spine as Russia made his way over, his steps uneven and awkward. "I came to talk to you."

"Vhat to talking about?" Ivan came closer, and Matthew couldn't stop himself from taking a few steps back. He was afraid.

"I.. I just wanted to know.. why? Why.. did you bring me here?"

Ivan cursed, becoming angry. To Matthew he seemed like a frightening and unpredictable bear.

"All this time I give you everything you vant.. I treat you like tsarinna and you vant to know vhy?"

Russia was terrifying him. Matthew had backed up to the wall, and he had nowhere else to go. Ivan bore down on him, yelling into his face.

"You are stupid little fool!"

Ivan backhanded Canada hard enough to send him tripping sideways. He crashed against a bookshelf and fell to the floor. Books fell down around him and onto him. The impact left him dizzy, but he scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could in case Russia was to come at him again with fists flying.

But Ivan stood still. He was staring at Canada, his eyes wide. He looked shocked as he gazed at the trail of blood that dripped down from where Matthew's cheek had been cut open. He'd scraped his face against the bookshelf.

Tears gathered in Russia's eyes and spilled down his face.

"Vanya.." Matthew said, unsure of what to do as the larger man wept silently. He was shaking.

"Get out." Ivan whispered.

"...what?"

"GET. OUT."

Russia balled his fist and came at the little blond as if he were going to hit him again. It was all the encouragement Matthew needed to turn tail and run, dashing out of the office and slamming the door behind him.

He ran past Alina, who was crying in the hallway.

"Matvey!" She cried, picking up her skirt and running after him. "Matvey, wait! Please!"

He ran to the front hallway and threw open the closet door. He searched for his boots. When he found them he hurried to put them on.

"Matvey! Matvey please!" Aline ran to him, grabbing his cloak from it's hanger before he could take it to wrap around himself. "You can't leave. You can't!"

"I can't stay here anymore." Matthew's bottom lip trembled and he held out his hand, wanting her to hand him the cloak. "I'm going. If you don't give that to me I'll be cold."

Alina sobbed as she handed him the cloak. He found himself crying too, and once he'd pulled the material around his shoulders he wrapped his arms around her. They cried together, trembling and unwilling to let go. She realized he was bleeding and she pulled a kerchief from her dress pocket and dabbed his cheek.

"He loves you.." She whispered.

Matthew felt his heart breaking. It hurt..

Oh... how it hurt.

"I'm going." He said again, finally pushing her back.

He turned and opened the front door, then ran out into the Russian night.


	14. Chapter 14

Matthew ran.

He had no idea where he was going, how he was going to get there, or even what direction he was headed. All he knew was that he had to put as much distance between himself and Russia's house as he could.

He didn't expect that Ivan would follow him right away. The man must have enough alcohol in his system by now to have him out cold and flat on the floor. And whenever he woke up from his drunken stupor he would be so hung over and sick.. Matthew doubted Ivan would want to move for a long, long time.

But then again.. this was Russia. To him, vodka was water.

Canada ran faster.

His lungs screamed at him to stop. To catch his breath. To find a safe place to fall to the ground and rest. But he kept going, dashing through the winding and narrow back streets of Moscow. He jumped fences and ran through yards. He dodged startled dogs and ducked through shadows to avoid police officers who were patrolling the night.

Finally he made it to a huge park, covered in trees and bushes with a pond at it's centre. Matthew found a secluded spot in some bushes next to the water and stumbled to his knees. He fell face forward to the cold, hard ground.

He lay there panting heavily, for a long time.

The world was spinning circles around him. He was dizzy with exhaustion.

He pushed himself over to lay on his back. His breath exhaled in a fine mist. It was cold outside. Spring was the new season in the air, but Winter had dug in it's heels and refused to release it's icy chill.

He shivered.

_I'm still in Moscow.._

This city was massive.

_Where am I going to go? What am I going to do?_

Matthew gazed up at the twinkling stars in the sky. He knew his options were as numerous as those stars, but he couldn't decide which to choose.

He could find a phone and call Alfred. The American would come and rescue him, take him home, and fawn over him with attention.. for a few weeks. Then he would forget all about him all over again.

_Nope. Forget that._

He could call England or France.

_No.. they still don't even know I was ever gone. _

He could find the Canadian embassy and get help from his people. He could make his own way back to Canada. He didn't need anyone else's help.

_...I.. I don't want to go home. I don't want to face my boss. I don't want my people to see me.._

He.. could go back to Russia's house.

Matthew closed his eyes.

More than anything he wanted to just go back to Russia's house. Go back to Alina and tell her how sorry he was for making her cry. Go back to Koshka, to good food, to a warm bed.. to Ivan..

"Vanya.." He sniffled, but he was too tired to cry anymore.

A groaning sound to his right.

Matthew sat up and looked around in the darkness of the park. Not far from where he sat on the ground was a bench overlooking the pond. On the bench lay an old bum, obviously near passed out from drinking too much. A bottle of vodka was loosely clutched in his fingers. The bum was groaning, his free hand clutching his stomach. He turned to his side and started to vomit.

Matthew hurried to his feet and forced himself into another run.

He found an old pickup truck parked outside a 24 hour gas station. It's owner had gone inside the little convenience store to buy himself something to snack on. Matthew hurried to climb into the truck bed and ducked down. There was an old, dirty tarp laying in the back and he covered himself with it, laying flat and still. The truck's owner returned and started the engine. It pulled out of the gas station.. and Canada was on his way. He wasn't sure where the truck would take him, but he was just so thankful to be off his feet.

Hours seemed to pass and the truck drove on. Matthew pulled back the tarp to watch the sky and the tops of the buildings as they flew by. As the time passed the buildings grew fewer and the trees became more numerous. Gradually the black sky began to light up with a morning sun.

Matthew had fallen asleep by the time the truck pulled into a tiny little town. When the engine slowed and the truck came to a stop he gasped himself awake. The truck driver got out of the cab.. and immediately noticed the stowaway in the back.

"Hey!" He shouted in Russian, "What the hell do you think you're doing in there?"

Matthew scrambled out of the truck and held his hands up, backing away.

Thank heavens for Alina and her Russian language lessons. Matthew had no trouble making himself understood.

"I'm sorry! Please don't be angry! I would have asked for a ride but it was the middle of the night and I didn't know if you were nice or not. I don't have any money to pay you with but.. but here! You.. you can have this!"

He shed himself of his cloak and held it out to the man, who looked at it with confusion.. and began to laugh. It wasn't a friendly laugh, but the man didn't seem overly angry. Just tired after such a long drive.

"What? You think I'm some poor beggar who needs your cast off clothes? So you hitched a ride in my truck. Big deal. Get out of here before I call the police."

He made 'shoo'ing motions at Canada.

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped the cloak back around his shoulders. He looked around the landscape, wondering where he was.. and which way he should go. The truck driver had turned was heading towards a nearby house.

"Um.. wait!" Matthew called. The man stopped and glanced back at Canada.

"Can you tell me where I am?"

"You're in Idritsa." The truck driver was watching Matthew closely, as if he was beginning to notice something different about him. Something that wasn't quite.. human.

"Oh. Uh.. ok. Thank you. Can you.. um.. tell me a little more about Idritsa? And what way I might head if I were to.. uh.. try and leave Russia?" Canada shuffled nervously on his feet. He wanted to hurry and get away from the man, but he needed more information about where in Russia he was.

"Go a few hours south and you're in Belarus."

Matthew gulped and felt his hair rising on the back of his neck. He shivered and quickly decided that he was NOT going south.

"What if I went west?"

"Then you'll be in Latvia."

The truck driver was openly staring at him now, as if he were thinking very hard about the little blond who'd stolen a ride in his truck and was now standing before him. Trying to place his face..

Matthew knew it was time to go.

"Thank you!" He called over his shoulder, turning to hurry away.

"Waaaait a minute.. you're America, aren't you?" The truck driver yelled after him. Matthew's breath caught in his throat and he picked up his feet into a jog. This was a bad place to be mistaken for his brother.

"I'm calling the police!"

Canada started to run.

People were walking around the town.. early morning risers.. and they looked to see who the truck driver was yelling about. Matthew pulled the cloak's hood over his head to try and hide his face as he ran. He left the town streets and headed into the woods where he knew he could move more easily through the trees and underbrush and be protected. If Canada was almost invisible in a room full of nations, he knew he could altogether disappear in the forest.

_I'll head through Latvia, _he thought. _ I'll slip through the border and make my way to Lithuania. _

It took him three days to get to Vilnius.

He managed to catch a ride here or there. Thankfully the people of Latvia were friendly and helpful, tho wary of the strange looking boy who resembled America. Once he'd crossed into Lithuania, the people were far more suspicious of him - mostly thanks to the way he sought out people who spoke Russian to ask for directions. He couldn't speak Lithuanian, and very few people knew English. He found himself walking most of the way to the capitol city, and by the time he made it.. he was a mess. And he was beyond exhausted.

He was too tired to avoid the police any longer. He walked into the middle of a street, causing traffic to stop. He stood there with his arms in the air in an 'I give up' posture.. until police officers came and arrested him.

They took him to a station and locked him in a cell. He pulled his cloak back, revealing his face to them. He asked to see Lithuania over and over, in Russian and in English.. and even a few times in French.. until they realized that he was not human. He was a nation. And not any nation. He was America. Or so they thought.

"Are you sure he's America?" One officer whispered to another as he picked up the phone, "He looks awfully scrawny.."

"The face is sorta similar.." Another officer whispered back, holding up a picture of Alfred and comparing it to the dirty, roughed-up looking nation in the cell. "... the hair and eyes are all wrong. But it doesn't matter. Call Lithuania, quickly."

A couple hours later, Lithuania walked into the police station with his guards. He took one look into the cell where Matthew was being held, then turned to snap at the officers.

"Let him out immediately! Show him respect! We are in the presence of Canada."

The cell was opened, and Canada stepped out. Lithuania held out his hand in welcome.. but Matthew hesitated to shake it. He was filthy. And embarrassed to be in such a state in front of another nation and his people.

"Thank you.. Lithuania.." He said softly, "I'm happy to see you.. to be here."

"Please, Mr Canada.. call me Toris. I'm very sorry about the harsh treatment. They didn't realize who you were.. especially when you were speaking Russian."

"I'm sorry.. " Canada's eyes were downcast at his feet. "I wasn't sure how else to get your attention."

"Nevermind now. Let's get you back to my house so you can clean up."

Tho Lithuania's house was small and simple. It was tastefully decorated and comfortable. And had a shower. Matthew had never been so grateful for a shower.

He stood beneath the showerhead, with water pouring over him as hot as he could stand it. He hadn't had a shower in all the time he'd stayed with Russia.. only baths given to him by Ivan himself. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to bathe alone.

When he was clean and dry and dressed in new clothing set aside for him, he left the washroom and found Toris sitting in an armchair in the livingroom. A little white tea set sat on the coffee table, with a teacup ready and waiting for Matthew to enjoy.

Lithuania immediately poured him a cup of tea as Canada sat down on the couch.

"Thank you," Matthew smiled, taking the cup and sipping. It tasted like heaven. There was a tray with crackers, cheeses, and little sandwiches as well. Matthew couldn't help but begin to eat from it greedily. He was starving.

Toris sipped his own tea, watching as Matthew ate, and the two naturally shy nations sat in awkward silence. There were obvious questions that needed to be answered, but neither the blond nor the brunette knew how to start the conversation.

Matthew had finished his tea and eaten most of the contents of the tray before he worked up the nerve to say something. The ball was in his court, afterall. He'd shown up in Lithuania seeking help.

He leaned back on the couch, took a deep breath.. and told Toris the entire story. Every detail that wasn't too personal or embarrassing to share - like being led around the house on a leash. The lie about the G8 summit, the kidnapping, being held against his will, and the feelings he'd developed for Russia over the long months he'd spent with him. The kindness, the gentle way Ivan had treated him.. up until Mathew had found out about the stolen laptop. America's visit, the agreed upon closer national relations with Russia by their bosses, and then finally how Ivan had become drunk, hit him, and told him to get out.

"I.. I don't think he meant for me to leave the house altogether. He just wanted me out of the office."

Matthew's bottom lip trembled. He was swallowing back a lump in his throat.

"He's probably so angry now.. and hurt because I ran away. But.. I didn't know what else to do."

Lithuania cleared his throat and Matthew looked up to see the man was trembling. The brunettes hands shook as he leaned forward to pour them both another cup of tea.

"That's.. quite a story.. Mr Canada." Lithuania said softly, "But I have to be honest with you. I wish you hadn't decided to come here."

Matthew stared at Lithuania with wide eyes, full of hurt. Toris blinked and waved his hands, almost spilling his tea.

"I'm sorry, Mr Canada! I didn't mean it like that. I'm always happy to welcome another nation to my country... especially you. It's just that.. you're right. Mr Russia is most likely very angry that you're gone, and I'm worried he'll quickly figure out where you went. Did anyone see you on your way here?"

Matthew felt guilt quickly gather up in his chest. Of course he'd been seen on his way here. The truck driver he'd met a few days ago had probably made good on his threat and called the police.. which meant it would be easy for Ivan to find out he'd gone east. Russia would know he'd never set foot in Belarus.. and so would have headed into..

"Latvia.." Matthew whispered, then turned worried, violet eyes to Lithuania. "He'll find out I went to Latvia!"

"Yes.. and he'll muscle his way in and question anyone he can get his hands on until he figures out you came here." Toris sighed and set his teacup down on it's saucer. He leaned back in his armchair with his hands clenched together. His eyes were closed, and his brows knit together with stress.

Canada felt horrible. For Lithuania, and for Latvia.. who might have an angry Russian knocking on his door very soon. The last thing the peaceful, quiet Baltic nations needed was their former oppressor coming after them. They were already nervous enough as it was. And it was all Matthew's fault for being selfish enough to run away from Ivan and cross their borders.

"Oh Lithuania.. I'm so sorry.. I'll leave right away!" Matthew got to his feet. Toris quickly stood too and blocked his path.

"No. No, Mr Canada. I want you to stay here and rest. You've been through alot."

Lithuania motioned to his couch and smiled at the blond nation, his green eyes warm. Matthew couldn't bring himself to smile back, but he sat down anyway.

"I'm going to assume you came here because of my history with Mr Russia." Toris said as he settled back in his armchair. Matthew nodded.

"I.. I did. I don't know exactly.. what you had with Va-.. uh.. with Russia. But.. I was told that at one time he.. he loved you."

Lithuania's eyes unfocused and drifted away into what Canada knew must be the past. Into the history Toris shared with Russia. The brunette's cheeks flushed with memories, and it was many moments before he spoke. When he did speak, it was quiet and slow.

"I suppose what he felt for me could be called love.. tho Mr Russia could never understand 'love' the way other people do. To him, love is about possession.. dominance.. force."

"So.. he did force himself on you?" Matthew felt so rude for asking, but he had to know.

"No, he didn't." Lithuania shook his head, "I went to Mr Russia's bed quite willingly. And often. He is a very.. um.. desirable.. bed partner."

Both nations couldn't bring themselves to look at each other. Both had cheeks the colour of crimson.

"He took my entire country and kept me very much the same way he's been keeping you, tho at the time he also took Latvia and Estonia. He loved them too, I'm sure, but I was his favourite. And I felt very.. warm.. towards him for all the affection he showed me."

"Did you love him back?" Matthew asked.

Toris drew in a long breath and exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"No. I didn't. I desired him, but I couldn't love him. My heart has belonged to Poland since long, long ago. He knew it, and he was angry over it."

Matthew began to chew on his bottom lip. His gaze left Lithuania's face and fell to the floor instead. He wanted to ask if Ivan had hit Lithuania.. beaten him in a drunken rage.. but he was too afraid to know the answer.

"Mr Russia is a frightening, jealous, and angry nation." said Toris, "He doesn't understand things, or act the way others do."

_'He has mind of child'_.. Alina's words echoed through Matthew's thoughts.

"But.. he is also kind, gentle, generous and so very passionate.. it would be very easy for someone to fall in love with him.. if there were anyone brave enough to forgive his many faults and misdeeds."

Matthew kept his eyes on the floor. His hand slipped into his pocket and he brought out the little snowflake pendant that he'd kept safe throughout his journey. He gazed at it as it rested in his palm, it's blue topaz stones and diamonds twinkling.

"That is very beautiful." said Toris.

Matthew closed his hand and shoved the pendant back into his pocket.

"Thank you for the food and the tea, Lithuania." he said, "I'm feeling very tired.. I was wondering if I could lay down and sleep?"

"Of course!" Toris smiled as he stood, and showed Matthew to a small spare bedroom. "Please have pleasant dreams."

The spare room door closed, and Canada was left to himself. He walked to the window and drew back the curtain, looking out. It was late afternoon. Night would come in a few hours.

He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.

Toris spent the evening scanning the news both on his television and computer. Just as he'd feared, there were reports of Russia making an appearance in Latvia. He wasn't at all surprised when Latvia himself called, terrified after a visit from their huge next door neighbour.

"He said he knows Mr Canada was here.. or maybe is STILL here. He's out there scaring my people half to death, asking questions. He brought his army with him, Lithuania! I have no idea what he's talking about!"

"Have you called NATO?" Toris asked, his hand shaking as it held the receiver.

"Of course I did.. as soon as he left. But I'm scared, Lithuania! I don't want a war with Mr Russia!"

"Try to calm down, Latvia. I think I can put a stop to this."

"How?"

"Mr Canada is here. With me."

"What? Why?"

"I.. I can't tell you the details. But.. I think once he's rested, Mr Canada will help us prevent this from turning into war. Just.. hold on for now, ok?"

"Ok.. I will."

Lithuania placed the receiver back in it's cradle. He glanced at the spare bedroom door and sincerely hoped Canada would be willing to calm the Russian storm that was coming his way.

At the first sign of morning, Lithuania rose and turned on the news. Russia and his army were headed towards the southern border of Latvia. NATO was scrambling to contact him - to order him out of Latvia, and to stay away from Lithuania. Russia was ignoring their protests.

His voicemail was overwhelmed with messages from his boss, from Estonia, from NATO officials, from England and even one from America. Alfred himself had called and offered to fly in right away.. as if he knew the reason behind Russia's sudden invasion.

Lithuania tried to keep his wits about him. He did his best to stay calm as he went about making a nice breakfast for two. He hoped the smell of food and morning coffee would rouse the blond nation who was apparently still asleep. He didn't want to return or answer any calls, or talk to anyone before he had another long discussion with Canada.

When Canada failed to appear even after breakfast was laid out on the kitchen table, Toris went to meekly knock on the spare bedroom door.

"Mr Canada?" He called, "I'm sorry for waking you if you're still sleeping. I.. I've got news about Mr Russia and.. I'm hoping you'll be able to help us before something bad happens. If.. maybe.. you could just call him and talk to him? Let him know you're ok?"

No answer.

Lithuania knocked again.

"Mr Canada?"

Lithuania turned the knob and peeked inside the room.

It was empty.

The window was open. There was a light breeze blowing the curtains inward. The bed was still made. No one had slept in it. Canada had slipped out sometime during the night.

Tucked half beneath a pillow was a small sheet of note paper with a message neatly written on it.

Toris went and picked it up to read.

_Dear Lithuania,_

_I'm so sorry for the trouble I've caused you. _

_I'm going back into Russia in the hopes that you and Latvia will be safe._

_Thank you for your hospitality and your words._

_Canada_


	15. Chapter 15

"He's gone back to Mr Russia.."

Lithuania read the note again.

_'I'm going back into Russia in the hopes that you and Latvia will be safe.'_

Lithuania frowned. He stuck the tip of this thumb into his mouth and chewed on the nail - a nervous habit Russia used to smack his hand for.

Canada had written he was going back into Russia. Not that he was going back TO Russia. Perhaps it had been a mistake, but Toris doubted it. He'd seen the confusion written all over the blonds face the night before. Canada wasn't ready to face Russia again just yet.. he was still scared and angry. And Lithuania knew exactly how he felt.

That didn't solve the problem of impending Russian invasion, however.

Toris began to pace back and forth in his livingroom, thinking hard. His phone began to ring, but he ignored it. He knew it would be NATO calling, asking him to mobilize his military in preparation, as no doubt Latvia and Estonia were already doing.

He grabbed his remote control and turned on the television. Further reports of Russia's movements through Latvia flashed on the screen, and how he was now crossing the Lithuanian border. But no stories of any aggression beyond simply entering the two countries illegally, with a few dozen Russian men riding in the backs of large army trucks.

The Latvia and Lithuania border guards stood aside, unsure of what to do as Russia and his men drove through. They were nervous, and knew that the wrong move could, at any time, bring a whole lot more than just a few dozen men into their countries.

Toris knew he needed to meet with NATO to discuss what should be done, and quickly, but..

But.

There had to be something else that he could do. It didn't have to come down to pitting his military against Russia and his men. There had to be another way. Even if he didn't have Canada there with him anymore.

The phone stopped ringing.

Lithuania sucked in all the courage he could into his lungs and hurriedly picked up the receiver before it started to ring again. He dialed a number he had not dialed in over a decade.

There was no answer.

Toris pressed the 'hang up' button, then dialed again. And again. And again. Then finally..

"Lithuania!" Russia's cheerful, happy sounding reply was, as usual, completely out of place given the present circumstances. "Did you know I'm on my way to see you right now?

"Yes, of course I know." Toris answered in Russian, "You're all over the news, Mr Russia. You've upset everyone. NATO is quickly organizing."

"Are they?" Ivan asked, and Toris shuddered when the larger nation chuckled in his creepy way, "That's sort of drastic, isn't it? I'm only here to visit you and ask a few questions."

"No, you're here to look for Mr Canada."

There was silence on the other end. A long silence. Lithuania could hear the roar of the army truck engine in the background. When Russia spoke again, his tone had changed.

"Where is he?"

No more cheerfulness. No more creepy laughter. Toris swallowed and began to shake.

"He's gone now, Mr Russia. He left last night."

"You're lying."

"I'm not. He left a note, saying he was going back to your country."

"Why didn't you keep him there!?"

Lithuania almost dropped the phone at the shout that blasted his eardrum. He trembled harder, the same way he always did whenever he had anything to do with Russia. He took deep, calming breaths to try and keep control of his nerves.

"Because he's a free country. I don't hold people against their will, Ivan."

Another long, drawn out silence. Lithuania, tho he felt he might crack beneath the weight of his own fear at any moment, knew he had the upper hand. Canada had come to him and confided in him. Russia would want to know what was said in the hopes of gaining any clues on Canada's whereabouts. He had to play his cards right to get any information.

"What did he tell you?" Russia asked, low and deadly.

"Everything." Toris switched the receiver to his other ear. "He was pretty upset. And now he's run off again, away from you. I can't say I blame him. Did you think you could make him love you enough to just hand over his nation?"

Toris could hardly believe these things were coming from his mouth. To Russia!

"I do not want his nation." Ivan growled into the phone.

"Now YOU are lying, Mr Russia. You went into his personal laptop while he was under your control. You had his boss agree to force him stay there with you. You opened the door to greedy human hands with the promise of power and wealth if only Canada were swayed into the waiting arms of the Russian Federation. You want his land and his people. You want total control over his country!"

"No!" Russia shouted, "How dare you speak to me this way, Lithuania! When I get my hands on you I'm going to-"

"You're going to what?" Toris yelled, "You don't have control of me anymore, Ivan. And you don't have control of Canada. Even if you've spent months confusing him into thinking you care about him, he knows better now!"

Lithuania hung up the phone.

He began to hyperventilate. He hugged himself, trying to calm down. He paced back and forth, walking off the shakes.

The phone immediately began to ring. He left it until the sixth ring, then picked up the receiver. He surprised himself yet again when his voice came out strong and sure.

"Yes?"

"Only Canada."

"Pardon?"

"I want only Canada. Not the nation. The person."

Russia's voice had changed yet again. It sounded softer now, almost defeated. Lithuania had to strain to hear him over the roar of the engine.

"Help me find him, Toris.. please. I.. do care about him. I need to find him and bring him back and.."

"And what?"

"...just.. please help me find him. Please."

Victory. Lithuania could hardly believe it. The mighty Russia.. the man who'd terrorized himself, his fellow Baltics, and countless other nations.. was asking him for help. Because of.. Canada.

Only Canada.

Toris sighed.

"Alright, I'll help you, Ivan. But you need to leave my country and go back to Russia because that's where Mr Canada said he was heading. And I don't think he'll have gone back the way he came. He wont go back into Latvia."

"But.." Ivan's voice became small, like a frightened child. "That means he would have gone into.."

"...Belarus."

Both nations gulped nervously. If there was one country in the world that was crazier than Russia himself, it was his little sister Belarus.

"He's dead. He's going to die. She'll chew him up and spit him out! I'll never see him again!" Ivan still sounded childish, and as tho he might start bawling at any moment. Toris remembered Russia's frightened reaction to his sister all too well.

"Wait, no.. calm down, Ivan. This is Mr Canada we're talking about. He's smart and fast and.. um.. honestly not very noticible unless he's right in front of you.. so there's a very good chance he'll just slip right through Belarus and get back into Russia with no problems at all."

"You think so?" Russia sniffled.

"I'm sure of it. I'll send my military out along my borders to look for him in case he's still here somewhere. But in the meantime you should go back to Russia and wait for him. Ok?"

Toris held his breath and clenched his eyes shut tight.

"...Da."

The line went dead. Russia had hung up.

Lithuania teetered on his feet and fell to his knees. His breath exhaled from his lungs like a deflating balloon. He felt dizzy as relief washed over him. And another feeling too. Pride.

For the first time in his independent life.. he'd stood up to Russia. And won.

He'd done it. Russia was going to leave Lithuania and Latvia alone, and it hadn't come down to a fight.

Toris got back to his feet and quickly dialed NATO. He was careful to explain everything that had happened and asked that they stand down. Russia was going to leave peacefully. He called Latvia and Estonia to fill them in on the news. They praised him for his quick thinking and bravery. He said goodbye to them, then called the commander of his military. He asked that his soldiers be sent out to look for Canada, just as he'd promised. Then he called America and told him everything that had happened.

The American was upset, but calming him and getting him to listen to sense was easier than it had been with Ivan. He thanked Lithuania for the information, and said that he was going to fly to Russia right away.

Toris hung up the phone and sighed. He picked up Canada's message and read it again, before folding it carefully. He thought about how lost the blond had looked, sitting on his couch. Beneath the confusion, and beneath the anger over what had happened..

Canada had looked lonely. Lonely, and sad.


	16. Chapter 16

Russia left Lithuania and Latvia. As promised, he and his men crossed the border back into their own country.

He called in reinforcements. Hundreds upon hundreds of men to be stationed all along the border between Russia, Latvia and Belarus. Every vehicle entering into Russia was thoroughly searched. Every person questioned. Had they seen a boy with blond, wavy hair who looked a little out of the ordinary? Had anyone who looked suspiciously like America asked for a ride or for directions?

The answer was always no.

Toris kept in contact with Ivan, giving him updates and reports about his military searches in Lithuania. Latvia had been called and asked to join in the search as well, and of course he'd agreed. Anything to keep Russia happy and at bay. But neither Baltic nation found Canada wandering their countryside or in their towns and villages.

"I doubt he'd have gone as far north as Estonia." Toris said, speaking with Ivan yet again for what had to be the hundredth time that day. He wanted to tell the huge nation that he had to stop calling.. he needed his line free to continue giving directions to his military.. but the Russian seemed to be crumbling more and more into panic with each passing hour. Toris was beginning to believe that Ivan really did care about Canada. Alot.

"Mr America is there now, isn't he? He's helping you look?"

"America is looking on his own. If he finds Canada first he'll take him away."

Lithuania frowned with a sigh. Russia sounded so distraught.

"They're brothers, Ivan. Mr America is just as worried as you are. If he finds Mr Canada he's not going to take him away unless he wants to go."

But Lithuania knew Russia couldn't understand that. It was so important to Ivan to find the little blond first, because in his mind that meant 'finders keepers'. The idea that the decision to stay or leave ultimately rested with Canada himself was a thought that hadn't crossed the Russian's mind.

Toris had a feeling that if Russia got his hands on Canada again he'd never go, despite what Canada truly might want. And this spelled ultimate trouble for everyone, because America was deeply involved now. If Canada was unwilling to go back into Ivan's needy arms, America would have a few things to say about it. A few things with guns and bombs and declarations of war..

And then all of Europe would be plunged into chaos again.

_Russia, you complete fool.. _ Toris thought. But he kept his tone reassuring as he spoke with Ivan.

"Why don't I come there, to.. help you get along with Mr America? Help keep everything civil?"

"You'd come?" Russia sounded pleased, "I would like that, Lithuania. Thank you. My soldiers are very angry with so many Americans here on our soil."

Lithuania didn't doubt it.

He travelled to Russia and found himself amidst a makeshift military camp - if it could be called that - that was running so high on tension you could almost cut it with a knife. American and Russian troops were stationed less then ten meters away from each other in what was obviously their base of operations for the search. He found Ivan in one of the large tents on the Russian side of the camp, seated at a table with a few officers. There was a large map of the area before them, with little red and little blue markers pinned all along the border between Russia, Latvia, and Belarus. The red markers were places that already had Russian guards standing watch and searching. The blues were American.

There were spots that had more blue markers than red ones, and Ivan was arguing that more troops needed to be moved in to those places.

"But sir," an officer clearly high in rank, but obviously nervous said, "if we station another battalion so close to the Americans a fight might break out. There was already an accusation of a shot being fired here.." The officer pointed to another area on the map which had red and blue markers very close together. "The Americans claimed it was an accidental misfire and no one was hurt but.."

"Move them in." Ivan glared at the man. There was no room for further argument in his voice.

The officer gulped, then gave a nervous salute and marched out of the tent, his eyes set straight forward. The other officers followed him. Lithuania ducked out of their way as he entered through the tent door. Russia looked up to see him, then rose and hurried over, pulling Toris into a hug.

Lithuania froze. He hadn't been in Russia's arms.. in a very long time. He felt a small pang of regret somewhere buried deep inside his chest. Once upon a time he had come very close to loving this man.. this childish, foolish, crazy man. If history had been different..

Lithuania pushed himself out at arms length. History was in the past. This was the present.

"No sign of him yet?" He walked to look at the map on the table. Russia followed.

"None. They stopped a tour bus and found someone on board with wavy blond hair and thought it might be him but.. it turned out to be a girl visiting from France."

"Oh."

Russia sat back down at the table. He bent and put his face in his hands. Toris stood awkwardly by, feeling a bit strange as he watched Ivan's shoulders shaking. The man had begun to cry silently. He hadn't seen the Russian so upset since the fall of the Soviet Union.

He stepped a little closer, and reached out his hand.. placing it on Russia's shoulder.

"Come on, Mr Russia.. it's going to be ok. You know the expression.. if you love something, let it go.. if it loves you, it will come back."

"No one ever comes back." Ivan said softly.

To that, Toris didn't know what to say.

An officer stepped into the tent and saluted Russia before starting to give his report about an area his troops had been sent to. Still no signs of Canada.. but plenty of arguments and bad feelings with the American soldiers. Ivan began to go over logistics with him, and Lithuania used this chance to slip outside the tent and walk away.

He headed into the American side of the camp. There were visibly less soldiers standing around, but they all carried huge guns and looked very keen on guarding this tiny little patch of Russia they'd claimed for themselves. Alfred Jones, America himself, was at the edge of the camp, a pair of binoculars raised to his eyes. He was scanning a distant treeline, searching.

"Ah, Lithuania! I didn't know you were gonna be here."

Alfred lowered the binoculars and grinned at him, but Toris saw that it wasn't his normal, carefree smile. He looked tired and worried.

"I thought I'd come and try to be of some help." Lithuania smiled back, then gazed off into the distance. American troops were marching one way, and Russian troops were marching the other.. all heading for different points at the border of Belarus.

"That's great! I need all the help I can get. Gotta find Mattie before that commie bastard Russia does and get him outta here." Alfred raised the binoculars back to his eyes, adjusting them slightly to get a better view.

Lithuania was silent for a few moments, listening as various orders were called out in the distance.

"Mr Russia loves Canada, you know.." he suddenly said. Alfred flinched.

"Yeah, well.. he's got a pretty shitty way of showin it. Matt wouldn'ta run off unless something bad happened. I wish you'd tell me what he told you."

Lithuania shook his head.

"I can't tell you, Mr America. I'm sorry. Mr Canada came to me in confidence, and I wont break his trust. What happened is between him and Mr Russia."

"Why didn't you keep him with you? Why did you let him leave?"

Lithuania blinked at America, surprised by the question that was so similar to the one Russia had asked him the day prior. He shook his head again and sighed, wondering if the two powerful nations knew how very similar they were sometimes.

"Nevermind." said America, "I'm sorry. I'm just gettin antsy with all the Russian guns around.. y'know?"

Toris nodded. He had to agree. He felt as nervous here in Russia surrounded by soldiers as he had back in his own country with Ivan on his way in his army trucks. But..

"Don't you find it odd that he let you and all your men come here?"

"Huh?" Alfred glanced at him.

"Mr Russia. Don't you think it's strange that he let you into his country at all? He must be desperate to find your brother."

"What are you saying, Lithuania?" America smirked at him.

"Only that Mr Russia has put aside a long history of cold feelings for you, so you could come here and help him look for someone he knows you care about as much as he does."

Alfred blinked at Lithuania. Toris could almost see the wheels turning in the mans head, processing this alternate way of thinking about the situation. Unfortunately America was not known for deep thought, and it wasn't long before he'd shook his head and frowned.

"Bullshit."

He watched as the American stalked off, angry.. or confused. Or perhaps both.

Lithuania turned to gaze at the trees in the distance again. The sun was slowly setting. Tomorrow would be yet another day that Canada was missing.

"Where are you?" he whispered.

Twice more they saw the sun rise in the east, then set in the west. Tensions were higher than ever in the camp, and along the borders. Reports of incidents and fighting between the soldiers came in daily, but nothing more serious than a few thrown punches and threats. The Americans wanted to go home, and the Russians wanted them to leave.. but Ivan and Alfred kept them searching for Canada relentlessly. They'd both sent troops as far north as the border with Finland, and as far south as the border with Georgia.

Lithuania knew there were some very delicate threads barely holding things together, and if Canada didn't show his face soon there would be trouble in a big way.

He did his best to keep both Russia and America calm. He'd lived with both, and he understood their temperaments. But he could not prevent the fight that broke out late in the afternoon of the third day.

Alfred was angry about provisions. The rations they'd brought with them from America had run out a day ago. A truck had rolled into camp to supply Russia's men with food, but none was being shared with the Americans.

"My guys are starving!" He yelled and stalked towards Russia, who was helping to unload the truck.

"Is not my problem." Ivan didn't even bother looking at Alfred as he hefted down another heavy box and set it on the ground.

"It IS your problem!" Alfred grabbed for Russia's shoulder and spun him around. "We're here because my little brother is lost out there somewhere cause of YOU."

Ivan's glare was dark and his lips pulled back into a snarl. He pushed Alfred, hard. The American stumbled back.

Men from both sides began to gather around them. Whispers of violence and fighting murmured through the air.

Lithuania, who had also come to help unload the truck, felt fear thrilling up his spine as he watched the two nations facing off against each other. There was nothing he could do now. The breaking point was here, and trying to get between the two would only result in his own serious injury.

"Alright, ya damn Russian bastard. You wanna throw down? C'mon, let's go."

America shrugged out of his jacket and shirt and threw it aside, leaving him in a white wifebeater and black gloves. He spat at the ground near Russia's feet, then raised his fists, his shoulders hunched forward, ready for a fight.

Ivan's glare never wavered and he stared into Alfred's eyes as he shrugged out of his own long jacket. A Russian soldier quickly came to take it away, and Ivan was left in a wifebeater as well, his being black. When he raised his fists it was slow and careful, his violet gaze piercing. He reminded Toris of a poisonous snake about to strike.

The two nations circled around each other. America danced, jumping back and forth, never staying still as he rushed at Russia, then dashed back in an attempt to intimidate him. Ivan did not flinch, however. He just waited patiently, his muscles tensed, his eyes never leaving the Americans.

"Kick his ass!" One of the soldiers shouted.

Alfred threw the first punch. Russia easily stepped aside and brought his elbow down in the middle of the American's back. The blond nation spun around and caught the Russian square in the jaw with a closed fist. Ivan rebounded quickly by grabbing the American's head, pulling down while bringing his leg up, smashing his face into his knee.

All hell broke loose.

Soldiers rushed in from all over the camp to watch their nations fighting. Cheers went up from either side when Alfred or Ivan got in a good punch or a kick. Both nations were powerful men. Russia was bigger, stronger, and hit much harder.. but America was fast and moved around Ivan easily, ducking many punches and quickly throwing his own, then dancing back out of the way.

At one point Ivan caught hold of Alfred by the front of his wife beater, then pulled back and sucker punched him hard enough to send him stumbling back out of the camp. The ground was slick and muddy from the Spring thaw and Alfred slipped as he staggered to his feet just time in before Ivan was on him. He stuck out his leg and tripped the Russian, who stumbled to his hands and knees, mud spraying everywhere. The Russian soldiers gasped when America used his chance to kick Russia in the side of the face.

"Ivan!" Toris gasped, watching in horror as Russia was sent sprawling in the mud. He stayed down.

America wiped his bloody nose with his arm. His glasses were cracked, and he was covered with scrapes and bruises. He limped as he began to walk away.

A short, surprised yell from one of the soldiers had him turning just in time to see Russia on his feet and coming at him. He was tackled to the ground. He hit his head on a rock, and he saw stars as Russia pounded into his face with his fists, over and over again.

Alfred did his best to block the blows. He twisted and threw Russia off balance. He caught Ivan in the face with his boot again, and blood ran freely from his nose.

"Stop!" Toris yelled, "Someone stop them!"

No one listened to him. The soldiers only cheered louder as their nations pounded each other down into the mud.

Lithuania looked around wildly for help, hoping that someone in the camp was sane enough to try and stop the fight.. when he saw something off in the distance.

He pulled himself away from the crowd and grabbed a free pair of binoculars. He lifted them to his eyes.. and what he saw stole the air from his lungs.

"Wait.."

Toris choked on his words, trying to force himself to speak.. to be heard over the yells and jeers of the soldiers.

"WAIT!"

He threw the binoculars and hurried back into the crowd, pushing soldiers aside to get to the fighting pair at the centre.

"Ivan! It's Canada!"

Russia immediately stopped, his eyes wide as they searched out Lithuania from the crowd. America threw another punch, but Russia caught his fist in his palm. Alfred screamed when a sickening cracking sound signaled his hand and fingers were being crushed in Russia's grip. Russia let him go, and Alfred doubled over in pain, cradling his mangled hand close to his chest.

The crowd dispersed as Russia pushed himself to his feet and hurried to follow Toris. Lithuania pointed, and in the distance they could see the little Canadian walking slowly towards the camp.

"Matvey.."

Russia took off at a run.

"Matvey!"

He dashed across the open field between himself and Canada. He tripped and skidded to his knees, shredding his skin and drawing even more blood, but then he was back up and running again. He didn't stop until he'd reached the little blond, who he grabbed and crushed to his chest with a cry.

"Matvey! Matvey.. where have you been.. my Matvey.."

He kissed Matthew on the forehead, on his cheeks, on his lips, leaving a bloody, muddy mess behind. But the Canadian was already a mess. He was dirty, and his hair was tangled and matted together. The clothing Lithuania had given him was torn up and filthy. His skin was cold. He was trembling, but only as much as his exhausted body could allow. His eyes were unfocused and his breath was shallow.

"Vanya.." his voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I ran away.."

Russia picked him up and cradled him. Tears gathered and washed away the blood from his cheeks. He brought his face in close and kissed the little blonds mouth.

"I love you, Matvey."

A weak smile touched Matthew's lips... and then his eyes rolled back and he fell limp in the Russian's arms.


	17. Chapter 17

Severely dehydrated. Suffering from starvation. Weak from exposure and exhaustion.

If Canada were human, the doctors said, he would have died.

Matthew lay asleep in a hospital bed in Moscow, the starch white sheets tucked around him carefully to keep him warm. His condition had been stabilized, but the doctors said it would be best that he stay for a few days while his body regained it's strength. There was an IV drip attached to his arm, giving him medication and fluid to help him recover.

Three nations stood watch over him. Two were at the end of his bed, while one sat close beside him in a chair, holding his hand, entirely focused on his sleeping face.

"Belarus must have known he was in the country as soon as he crossed the border." Lithuania's voice was quiet, as all voices were hushed to near silence in a hospital.

"That makes sense.. she has access to the Internet and the news, just like the rest of us. She would have known about Russia crossing into Latvia, then into Lithuania." America answered.

Toris moved to sit on the edge of Matthew's bed and gazed at the blonds face. When Ivan had carried him back to camp unconscious, his skin had been deathly pale. Now his cheeks held colour, and his lips were pink and parted slightly in his sleep.

America was drinking a coffee with one hand. The other was wrapped in a cast and hanging from his shoulder in a sling. His face was patched up where he'd been cut or scraped, and he was badly bruised with two black eyes.

"There's no way to know if she caught him and tortured him or something?"

Russia shook his bandaged head. His own face was banged up. The side of his head where America had kicked him had needed stitches. His face was just as bruised.

"She did not catch him. He would be in far worse state if she did. He must have run through woods.. stayed hidden in forest.. all that time."

"Damn." said America.

Matthew's hard twitched in Russia's, squeezing very lightly. A moment later, violet eyes framed by long lashes fluttered open. They took a moment to focus, looking glazed over and confused, but when Ivan cupped his cheek in his hand and turned his face towards him.. the little blond smiled.

"Vanya.." his voice came out scratchy and weak. He licked at his dry lips. Russia leaned in to place a sweet kiss on his mouth, giving him moisture.

Alfred stared, his expression one of disgust and anger.

Toris stood and cleared his throat. He took America's arm and tugged him towards the door.

"Let's go and see if we can find something to eat?"

Alfred gazed at his brother and his enemy for a moment longer before nodding. A great sigh left his chest and he allowed himself to be led out of the room. "Does Russia even have hamburgers?"

The door closed behind them.

Ivan broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against his loves. Matthew cupped his cheeks and laced his fingers through the silvery hair. He touched the bandages around Russia's head and inspected each of the cuts and bruises on his face.

"Did Alfred do this to you?" he asked, his eyes full of concern. Ivan chuckled.

"Da, but I deserved it."

Matthew traced his fingertips over Russia's features, mapping him out carefully as tho he wanted to make sure he was real. Light touches along his chin, his brow, his cheeks and eyelids. He traced the outline of the nose he loved so much, then down over his lips. Russia took his hand and kissed the tip of each finger.

"I was scared.." Matthew's eyes began to shine and his bottom lip trembled. "I was so angry with you.. and scared."

"Shhh, I know. It's alright, my little Matvey. I'm here now. We're together."

Russia used his thumb to carefully brush away tears as they fell. Matthew struggled to sit up, still weak. Russia helped him, being careful of the IV. The little blond wrapped his arms around Ivan and buried his face into the larger mans chest, breathing in his scent.

Ivan hugged him carefully, gently, resting his cheek against the golden curls of Matthew's head. He closed his eyes.

"Vanya?"

"Hmm?"

"I still need to know why. Why me?"

Russia pushed him back only far enough to look down into violet eyes so much like his own. He pet the hair back from Matthew's face and smiled.

"I have told you already why, Matvey. It is because you are like pet.. like Koshka. Quiet, and soft. You are so beautiful, but no one pay attention to you because you are timid. You were lonely and no one appreciate you. I bring you home with me and I take care of you. I give you happiness and attention. You keep me company.. and I love you."

Matthew gazed up at Ivan, who looked back at him with eyes full of such honest and open feelings. Slowly.. a happy smile lit the blonds face.. and he hugged Russia as hard as he could.

_Lithuania was right.. he doesn't think or act the way others do. And I don't want him any other way._

"I love you too, Vanya."

Russia's smile was gentle and happy. He gathered Matthew up into his arms and sat down on the bed. He cradled the blond in his lap and pulled the white sheet up around him.

"You sleep, my little Matvey. Get better so I can take you home."

Matthew yawned and snuggled in, closing his eyes. He drifted to sleep listening to the Russian's heart beating steadily in his chest.

A week went by before the hospital felt Matthew had recovered enough to be released.

He stood amidst an ever moving crowd of people, rushing to and fro, hurrying to catch flights. A Russian voice spoke over a loudspeaker, announcing the last calls of departures for various planes going to various destinations. It announced that flight 142 leaving for New York City was now boarding.

He was wrapped in a new red cloak, embroidered with white maple leaves and a hood that was trimmed with white fur. The air outside the airport was still very chilly. Winter would not give up it's fight and allow in the warmth of Spring. Matthew guessed it was about the same in Ottawa, and since he was still a little weak, it was best to dress warmly.

"Are you sure this is what you want? I mean.. I know you kinda like it here." Alfred said, putting an arm around his shoulder.

Matthew smiled and nodded.

"Yes. It's time to go back home. My boss has had it up to his eyeballs with all my provinces fighting. He needs me."

America pulled his brother into a tight hug and sighed.

"Call me if there's any trouble, ok?"

"Ok.. but.. I'm sure we'll be fine. Don't worry." Matthew kissed Alfred's cheek.

"Koshka, no! Bad kitty!"

The yell caused the two blonds to turn and see a Russian who was desperately fighting to keep a very large and angry cat inside a plastic carrier. Koshka was apparently strong enough to push the plastic apart. He squished through the crack to escape and ran off through the airport.

"Koshka! Come back!" Ivan yelled again, chasing after him.

Alina, who had been making sure all of their luggage was together and properly labeled, gasped and ran off after the nation and the cat.

"Oh no! Matvey, help!" She called over her shoulder.

Matthew blinked, then turned an apologetic look to his brother.

"I.. uh.. I better go."

America doubled over and had himself a good, long laugh. He patted Matthew on the back.

"My flight is gonna leave without me anyway. See ya, Mattie. It'd better really be you who emails me next time, kay?"

"Kay!" Matthew laughed and ran off, chasing after the servant girl, the nation, and the cat.

They fortunately caught Koshka before their own flight left, and the airport supplied them with a sturdy, extra strong box to put Koshka in. The cat yowled pitifully, and Matthew did his best to reassure him that he would like it in Canada. Canada had as many mice as Russia did, and he might even make a new friend called Kumajiro.

Alina was excited to be going to an English country. She'd bought a Guide to Canada book and talked endlessly about all the sights she wanted to see, all the foods she wanted to try, and all the different people she wanted to meet. Ivan needed more reassuring, however.

Matthew snuggled up to him after they'd boarded the plane, and reminded him that Canada was every bit as cold and snowy as Russia.

"But Summer is coming, Matvey.." Ivan had looked at him with a childish pout, and Matthew kissed him with a laugh.

"I think we can maybe find something to make you comfortable in Summer, too."

They were flying to Canada to stay. At least for a year. After that they would go back to Russia to stay for another year. They agreed to go back and forth, and share each others lands the way they wanted to share eachs others lives.

Matthew's house was much smaller than Ivan's, but his property was vast and surrounded by forest. He hired workers to come and build a guest house for Alina, who was beside herself with delight and thanked him thoroughly with kisses.

They dug a flower garden and Ivan planted sunflowers that grew tall and yellow and beautiful. He was very pleased.

Koshka did indeed like it very much in Canada. Kumajiro chased him all over the yard and house, and they shared meals of fish together in the evenings.

Alina met a Canadian man almost immediately and fell in love. When she married him, she proudly claimed that she was the luckiest girl in the world to have two nations attend her wedding.

The Russian felt a little out of place in Canada at first, but eventually he came to love the country that looked so much like his own. And of course he had his little Matvey.

His Canada.

Only Canada.

The end.

* * *

Ok.. so now's the part where -I- cry. I hate to end this story.. it was so much fun to write.

Thank you all for the comments. I hope you enjoyed.

Yes, I'll go back to working on Don't Be Jealous. Or maybe I'll write a Ruscan oneshot that's floating around in my brain. I can't leave Matvey and Vanya behind for long. These two live in my head now. ^_^


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